


I'm Wishing

by CarnalCoast



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Child Abuse, Childhood, Drug Use, Harm to Animals, M/M, Misgendering, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:36:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 62,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnalCoast/pseuds/CarnalCoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba and Sei knew they were different from the other kids, but they never realized how much until they are separated from each other.</p><p>All Aoba wants is his brother back.</p><p>What he gets is much more.</p><p>[HIATUS]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU, but some elements are going to be from canon. Note that the actual romance won't start until around Chapter 12, or basically around the end of the whole childhood arc. More tags will be added as this progresses, but I've already added archive warnings/pairing tags just so I don't end up scarring/scaring anyone!
> 
> The title is a reference to that one song from Snow White, by the way.

Headphones on, he always strode out the door without even a goodbye. Or a good morning, for that matter. Her eyes followed him every day, and sometimes he thought she would say something – express her concern, her fear? Her disappointment?

She _would_ tell him, at first – “Aoba, you can’t get in any more fights.” – “What happened to all those _nice_ boys you used to be friends with?” – “You need to start planning to go back to school someday, Aoba.”

Her nagging slowly trickled away, until it was stopped up for good. He knew he would tire her out eventually. Sure, there may have been a part of Aoba that felt ashamed, even guilty, that he was putting dear Granny through this; however, that part hadn’t been seen by anyone in a long time.

“Hey, Aoba!”

The familiar voice of his childhood friend graced his ears through the pounding music, and Aoba reluctantly moved one speaker off his ear to respond.

“Yo.” Monotone; just how he always had been for years now. Mizuki didn’t seem to mind, and still slung his arm around Aoba’s shoulder. The few men standing around Aoba – his “friends” for lack of a better term – eyed him wearily, but didn’t object. They knew that if they did, Aoba would probably just throw them a punch and leave with Mizuki.

“So, you _are_ still coming to the Dry Juice meet tonight, right? I mean, you didn’t answer my text…” Mizuki talked loudly, with a nice-guy smile, so Aoba knew that he was just trying to keep up his appearance. That was how all of these “gangsters” were, though; it couldn’t be helped. Aoba was deeply disgusted by it, but couldn’t complain; after all, he did the exact same thing.

“I don’t know. Why do you need me there?”

“Because you’re an expert on Rhyme! I thought I told you about this…” Mizuki’s voice died down. The other men seemed to have thrown suspicious glares his way; a Rib leader mentioning Rhyme was something to be concerned about. Aoba saw this and scoffed.

“I’m not an expert on Rhyme, asshole. Fine, I’ll come.”

“Really? Thanks, Aoba!” Mizuki ruffled Aoba’s hair in happiness, before backing off at his groans of revulsion. The men were starting to look more threatening as time passes, so he followed up with a, “Well, I don’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble here! Catch ya later!” before jogging off.

Aoba sighed loudly, about to put his headphones back on properly, before one of the men caught his attention with a nudge.

“Oh, here’s the place?"

A dark blue puff of fur popped out of Aoba’s hoodie at the question, turning to look up at him. The dog’s deep, hollow voice responded, “Yes, this is the proper address. However, business hours were not listed in any databases I was capable of contacting. Do you think they are open?”

“Does it matter?” Aoba sneered at his AllMate’s question. “We’ll get in either way.” The men around him murmured in agreement, and Ren’s ears drooped.

“Aoba…”

“Shut it, Ren. Why do you always have to criticize my ideas? Don’t you want to see him too?”

“Of course, Aoba, but this method is unprincipled. And I also believe it would be best if we told Mizuki-“

“No thanks. Just do what you’re told.”

“Of course, Aoba…” Ren automatically agreed as Aoba knocked on the door. The building was small, but pretty, with flowers surrounding the bench in front of the large window. All of the flowers were in separate pots, as if each one was grown by someone different. There was a handmade sign next to the door that explained the specials of this week – but no business hours.

“Tch… How unprofessional. And of course no one answers…” Aoba grumbled to himself, before gesturing one of the men behind him to the door. Ren whined quietly from inside Aoba’s hoodie as the man smirked, pulling out a crowbar. It started to drizzle lightly, but none of the boys bothered to pull up their hoods.

With a sharp crack, the door opened.

“Flimsy…” Aoba muttered, craning his head in. It’s dark inside, but he made a few steps into the shop. From somewhere deep inside him, his breathing stuttered.

“Anyone home?”

 

 

Aoba knew he was different from most children, but he didn’t always think that way. It was Sei who made him realize how unique they both were; after all, Aoba was never as observant as his brother, he could admit.

Neither of the twins looked particularly strange – Aoba thought the birthmark on his right hip was shaped far too precisely like a six-pointed star to be a coincidence, but Sei quickly assured him that it was no big deal. No, the problem was how strange they _felt_. The sensations that ran through them whenever someone touched or tugged on their hair too hard were enough to keep them both from attending pre-school for two weeks, before Mom and Granny finally caved and decided to let them stay home until the next year. Dad never cared as much; he seemed to understand, which was probably why he grew to become the favorite parent.

Still, Aoba never considered that he was any different from any other kid until Sei pointed it out. All of the other kids had hair that doesn’t hurt them. None of them could speak telepathically to their siblings, either; although, as Aoba grew older, he was unsure of whether the telepathy was just a product of their combined imagination or the real deal.

Perhaps it was these differences that made the two twins so quiet in their early years – never reaching out to make any other friendships, simply staying close to each other throughout their days. Haruka worried and worried about her precious boys becoming recluses and never having any relationships other than their own, but Nain and Tae-san always assured her that she was simply overreacting. Children developed all at their own rate; most likely, Sei and Aoba would need a little more time before they decided to open up out of their little world and become social with other kids.

In the two years that Haruka and Nain were raising the twins, however, that did not happen. Five-year-old Aoba, tears running down his chubby face, would have to constantly run to Sei in order to escape the relentless bullies insistent on pulling his bangs. Sei fought them all with a cold expression; unless they were older or threatened them with scissors, in which case Sei would grab Aoba’s hand and run for their young lives. The playground the two frequented would usually be swarming with kids their age during the day, especially on weekends, so Sei decided that they would only go out to play in the mornings and evenings. He didn’t trust any one of those kids anymore, and Aoba was inclined to agree.

Sei and Aoba never talked to their parents or Granny about any of the bad things; home was a place for fun and happiness, after all. So there was nothing Haruka or Nain could do. In fact, nothing did happen to change it until the young couple left Midorijima.

“Are mommy and daddy really gone?” Aoba asked his brother in an unobtrusive, wobbly voice. It was nighttime, both of them laying in the twin bed they shared, facing each other. Granny wasn’t in the house at the moment, so they could probably be as loud as they want, but it was always custom to whisper when they talked at night.

“Yes. They left this morning, remember.” Sei’s answer was unemotional, because he was too busy searching his brother’s face for any sign that he might cry.

Sure enough, tears were welling up in Aoba’s large eyes. “Okay… But they will come back.” He said it to assure himself, but it didn’t seem to work too well, and he started sobbing quietly.

Sei pulled Aoba into his arms and tried to cuddle him to sleep; it usually worked whenever he was crying about being bullied, so Sei hoped it would work this time as well. Sei already cried himself out to Granny that morning, anyway, so he didn’t feel like shedding any more tears.

At first, Sei didn’t know what to say to calm Aoba’s fears. Then, “I’m positive we’ll see them again someday.”

After Haruka and Nain left to travel, Granny had to provide for Sei and Aoba more than ever. It was almost impossible for her to do alone; she still had her own job to do, and she couldn’t bring the twins to and from school every day. This led to her giving Sei the job of protecting them both – something Sei had already gotten used to doing, so the routine turned out to be quite effective. Walking to and from school was easy enough for them when Sei would shoot unfriendly glares at any kid or adult coming within four feet of them. All of the harassment they had endured made Sei distrustful towards most people; it was likely they would hurt him or his brother.

One particular day, though, not three weeks after Haruka and Nain left, someone managed to break down the walls Sei had put up.

“Aw, look at her! I think she’s actually about to cry! What a girl…”

“What kind of boy has this hair, anyway…?” There was a sharp yank, and Aoba yelped in pain, a tear streaking down his face. He almost wanted to yell, but he could never get his voice to work in situations like this.

“Is it even a boy or a girl, anyway? How can you tell?”

“No boy is _this_ wimpy! Just look!” Aoba was pushed on his back, and gravel dug into his palms. He heard the other boys laugh maliciously and sobbed; the things they said usually didn’t get to him this much, but Sei wasn’t there to protect him this time. He had to stay in for recess because the teacher wanted to talk to him about something. Whatever it was, Aoba wished more than anything that they would hurry up. Either that, or for the ground under him to just swallow him up forever.

“Well? Get up.” A kick made contact with his side, and Aoba jerked in pain. All he wanted was for Sei to come, for a teacher to look his way, something! His eyes closed tightly and he waited for another kick, but…

“Hey! What do you guys think you’re doing?” Another boy’s voice reached Aoba’s ears, but this one sounded even older than the bullies.

“What do you mean?” The kid who was kicking him asked, sounding honestly confused.

“Yeah, we’re just having fun…”

“This is _fun?_ Knock it off! Quit beating on a girl; you don’t deserve to be called men! You need to treat girls with respect! What is wrong with you?” The rescuer’s speech was likely more than enough to intimidate the bullies, and they ran off, a couple of them bowing to the rescuer in apology. Aoba, still sobbing brokenly, stayed on the ground until a hand reached out to him.

“Hey, are you okay? Those guys were just jerks. Can you stand?”

Aoba looked up hesitatingly at the patient voice, and saw a black-haired boy reaching out to him encouragingly. He looked like one of the older kids in the school, and Aoba felt too intimidated to take his hand. After an excruciatingly long amount of waiting, though, he realized that his savior wouldn’t leave without an answer, so Aoba shakily allowed himself to be pulled up.

The boy smiled at him in approval and held on to his shoulder, seemingly looking him over for injuries. Aoba shied away, feeling like he was about to cry again. Inside, he felt more than grateful to this person for helping him, but where was Sei?

“Well, my name is Koujaku. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?” Koujaku, noticing Aoba’s reclusiveness, tried his hardest to sound soft and comforting. Aoba relaxed noticeably and inhaled.

“It’s… Aoba. Seragaki.” His voice was barely audible, but Koujaku was listening hard, and managed to catch his name.

“Aoba. Why would those boys hurt you, Aoba? Did they have any reason?”

Encouraged, Aoba quietly replied, “It’s because… I look like a g-girl…”

“…You’re not a girl?” In his surprise, Koujaku forgot to make his voice gentler, and Aoba looked away quickly in fear. Surely, now that he knew Aoba was a boy, Koujaku would be like the others. Surely, he would want to beat Aoba up too.

Seeing Aoba’s renewed fear, Koujaku laughed nervously and tried to fix his mistake. “N-No! I didn’t… That’s a really stupid reason to try and beat someone up! I’m still going to protect you, okay? I promise I will!”

Aoba looked back at him in shock at his declaration, and Koujaku was smiling kindly again. This boy… This _hero_ came to save him! Aoba felt a flutter in his small chest, and opened his mouth to reply…

“Hey! What are you doing to my brother?”

Aoba’s arm was taken by a familiar hand, and he felt himself calming again. Sei was at his side, glaring at Koujaku with all of his intensity. There was a second boy who came with Sei; he looked a bit older than the twins, and had darker skin with dark purple hair. Aoba had never seen him before in his life, but wasn’t made nervous by the stranger, because now Sei was there.

“I’m not doing anything, I promise. He was being bullied, and…” Koujaku held his hands up and tried to prove himself, narrowing his eyes a little.

“This guy saved me, Sei…” Aoba whispered so softly to Sei that only the two of them could hear. “He’s a hero…”

The anger immediately left Sei’s dark eyes at his brother’s words. Still holding Aoba’s hand, he now faced Koujaku with a grateful expression. Everyone was silent, awaiting his words.

“…Thanks.”

With Sei’s approval, the hero Koujaku quickly became a steady presence in their lives. As they learned, Koujaku was eleven years old and had just moved to the island with his mother. He was respectful towards everyone, but not afraid to step up to someone he didn’t like – qualities that made him rank up drastically in Sei’s book. The other, purple-haired boy who had been following Sei at the time turned out to be a nine-year-old named Mizuki, who was assigned to be Sei’s student tutor and help him with his homework. The teacher had called him in to introduce them; Sei was very smart, Aoba knew, but he just didn’t enjoy academics. Aoba at least could tolerate schoolwork; Sei, on the other hand, usually quit his work halfway out of boredom or frustration. He was never one for listening to directions, and preferred to do things his own way.

Nevertheless, Mizuki was there to help Sei actually finish his homework, and he also gradually reserved a place in the twins’ life. Within a year, Sei and Aoba had acquired the first two friends they’d ever had outside of themselves. Granny was astounded, and constantly pestered the twins to invite them over. Koujaku and Mizuki were always eager to come and visit anyway, since Granny’s cooking was so delectable.

Obviously, both siblings had to change their routine to get used to their new friends; they had always been alone until now. Sei was still reluctant to let Mizuki or Koujaku so much as touch Aoba, and Aoba was still quick to get nervous even when the boys were just playing around. But Mizuki and Koujaku quickly understood and respected their boundaries – something that assured their positions in the twins’ life, and allowed Sei to let himself be friendly towards them.

Koujaku’s promise to protect Aoba rang true, and both siblings found themselves being saved by him regularly. Mizuki helped on some occasions, but he never hung out with them as much as Koujaku did, so it was mainly Koujaku supporting them. Aoba grew to like Koujaku a lot because of this, but was even more grateful to him for being someone Sei could confide in. Sei was always babying Aoba – never the other way around, and though Aoba liked it that way, he was still worried that Sei would never have someone to do the same for him. Koujaku ended up being that person; Sei seemed angry and embarrassed when Aoba brought up how he hugged and cried into Koujaku that one time, but Aoba was just happy that Sei didn’t have to act as strong anymore.

Koujaku and his mother also helped the twins realize something else that set them apart from the other kids. Koujaku’s mother and Granny quickly became close friends, so Granny often left Aoba and Sei under her care when she was too busy working to watch them. Koujaku’s mother was the first to explain to Aoba and Sei that they had been adopted by Haruka and Nain – different from Koujaku, who was his mother’s biological son. At first, the boys didn’t understand the difference completely, but Granny helped explain it to them as well.

Aoba didn’t see it as a big difference; Haruka and Nain were still their parents, no matter what, so why did it matter? Sei was more concerned, though; they had to have come from somewhere, right? Who gave birth to them? What was their life like before they were adopted? Neither Aoba nor Sei could remember anything beyond living on the island with their parents and Granny. Sei yearned to know more, so Granny told the twins the story of how Haruka and Nain showed up on her doorstep, during a frosty winter’s evening, toting two five-year-old boys with them. The couple had been previously traveling for a few years, so seeing them come back out of the blue with young children was almost enough to make Granny’s heart stop. But she quickly ushered them in and gave them a place to raise their new children; where those children came from, she couldn’t say for certain. Nain told her that they came from a faraway country, and they needed parents – simple as that. End of story. Sei and Aoba had no choice but to accept Granny’s explanation and leave it be; perhaps they would never know of their birth parents, but it wasn’t something to dwell on.

The twins soon forgot to worry about their origins anyway, when Sei’s health started deteriorating even more. Aoba knew Sei’s immune system had always been weaker than his; luckily, with Granny being in the health-care profession, as often as Sei caught sicknesses, he was never ailed by them for very long. When they turned nine, however, it became harder to fend off a common cold or stomach bug.

That’s why Aoba decided he should maybe try and take care of Sei just as much, if not more, as Sei took care of him.

“Hey! Anyone home?” Young Aoba knocked on the russet door vigorously, hopping out of nervousness and excitement every couple seconds.

After a short moment, the door opened, and Koujaku appeared. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Let’s go!” He spotted Aoba’s fidgeting and grinned delightedly. “Someone’s excited.”

Aoba blushed and pouted indignantly. “Not! I’ve just been waiting out here for _forever_ , that’s all!” His anger quickly left him and he smiled enthusiastically again. “So, do you have money? What AllMate are you thinking of getting? _I_ really want a blue dog, or a blue cat-“

Koujaku laughed loudly to cut off his rambling and led him away from the house. “Whoa there, slow down! Mom gave me enough money. You’re not even the one buying an AllMate today, remember?”

Aoba grabbed Koujaku’s wrist to keep himself from tripping on the curb like he always did, and whined, “Yeah... But why can’t I? I _really_ want one!”

“You’re not old enough to get an AllMate yet, Aoba. Do you really think you can maintain a complex one? We already told you, you could get a small automatic-“

“But those aren’t cool!” Aoba stomped his feet and groaned, making Koujaku chuckle again. “They aren’t customizable or anything, and they all do the same thing! Those aren’t _real_ AllMates, you hippo!”

“Oi, don’t call me a hippo.” Koujaku turned the street corner and tugged Aoba along, trying to change the subject. He knew Aoba would just become relentless if it carried on any further. “We have to pick up Sei and Mizuki, remember? How is Sei today anyway?”

Aoba, pouting, didn’t want to yield. “Granny was giving him his medicine when I left. That stuff is so gross… But he agrees with me! He thinks we both should get AllMates the same time as you!”

Koujaku groaned in exasperation. “You can’t fool me, Aoba. I know Sei doesn’t think that.”

“Fine… But why does Mizuki get to buy one today too? He’s only eleven!”

“Eleven is old enough. Mizuki is smart and mature for his age. Aoba, once you turn eleven I’m sure Tae-san will get you and Sei both AllMates of your own, okay?”

Aoba sighed as they neared his front door. “Okay…”

At the store, Koujaku ended up buying a small red bird AllMate, after much consideration. Mizuki spent less time choosing his, striding for the “reptilian” section and picking out a bearded dragon AllMate almost twice the size of Koujaku’s bird. Aoba fumed with envy the entire time, while Sei laughed quietly beside him at his jealousy, occasionally coughing.

“Aoba… We’ll get ours soon enough, okay?” Sei commented to console him as they waiting for Koujaku and Mizuki outside the shop – Aoba couldn’t stand the tempting sight of all the AllMates any longer.

“I know…” Aoba mumbled dejectedly, before brightening up and looking to Sei in eagerness. “And I’ve already decided what mine is going to be, too! A cat or a dog – they have to be blue! And they have to be really smart, too!”

“I don’t think you should be too certain of what your AllMate is going to be like, or you might be disappointed...”

Aoba frowned at his brother’s logic. “I guess… What do you want yours to be like, nii-san?”

Sei sighed and tried to humor him. “Uh… I’d like a fish.”

“A fish?” Aoba laughed a little. “A fish won’t be able to do anything, silly! That’s just like having a normal pet…”

“Fine… Maybe a… butterfly?”

Remembering his dad’s story of a blue butterfly, Aoba smiled in approval. “That sounds neat! And it has to be blue!”

Sei nodded happily in agreement. “Yeah. And big enough so that no one squashes it…”

“Ooooh, big enough to ride!”

The older twin made a face and then laughed. “Not _that_ big, Aoba!”

Aoba pouted – _he_ thought it was a good idea – but agreed reluctantly. “I guess not… Okay, if I forget in two years, remind me to make Granny take us here to buy them, okay?”

Smiling at his brother’s exuberance, Sei replied, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Feedback here would be much appreciated](http://ow-ba.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading~


	2. Chapter 2

Breakfast for Clear was always simple – toast with apricot jam, and a tall glass of whole milk. Occasionally he would switch up the jam flavor, but that was only when it was raining outside, which wasn’t very often where he lived.

He smiled when he heard the soothing voice of Grandpa calling him to work. With a life like his, what was there to ever be sad about? Clear hadn’t felt sadness at all in his short life – then again, wasn’t it true that most kids below ten years old were inhumanly innocent, anyway?

“Good luck with tilling the soil today, Sen!” Clear jubilantly says to Grandpa’s son. Sen was a boy much older than him, with almost translucent strawberry-blond hair and glasses. He’d lived with Clear and Grandpa all his life – he was Grandpa’s son, after all – so he was family, Clear knew. But in Clear’s mind, he never saw him as his uncle, brother, or anything like that. He was simply “Grandpa’s Son”. It was unusual to other people, but Clear didn’t find it strange. When some of his classmates asked why his “Grandpa” was so young too, he just smiled and said “because”!

Sen shot an irritated glace his way, like he always did, and didn’t speak to him. Clear was used to Sen treating him unkindly, but he never got upset by it. It was how things always had been; if Sen suddenly complimented him one day, Clear would probably be worried and a bit terrified.

Humming to himself, Clear opened the creaking front door and took a large breath of the fresh, slightly humid air. He liked where he lived – even when it rained, the scenery was colorful and lively. Smiling, he was about to run down the porch steps when an arm caught his shoulder.

“Wait, Clear.” The familiar voice of Grandpa stopped him, and a straw hat was pushed onto his head. Clear grabbed it and looked up to his caretaker with a childish smile.

“Thanks! Can I take care of Suzy today?”

“Hmm… I suppose. Just take care of the cria first.”

“Yes!” Clear ran a few yards to a nearby barn and grabbed the hand-bell. All of the baby alpacas – cria, Grandpa called them – weren’t old enough to follow the bell yet, but that’s what Clear was for. He was determined to train them quickly, and did so by ringing with vigor at least four times before he patiently nudged them out the door to be in the sunshine. A few babies even responded with a high-pitched “mmm” noise – something that Clear jumped with glee at.

This was Clear’s job every sunny day – take care of the cria first, and then take care of any adult alpacas that he had reserved to handle himself. Because the truth was, although Clear found the babies to be extremely adorable, he liked the adults much more, especially when their wool had grown out again. Clear could hug and squeeze them and just _melt_ into a pool of soft fluff – something he couldn’t do with the cria, as they were too small and would whine in protest. Clear was particularly fond of an adult named Suzy, who had been on the farm for as long as he could remember – probably even before he was born.

The farm life was all Clear had ever known, so he enjoyed it. Out here, it was hard work to make a living, but the work tended to be therapeutic. Clear had gotten many angry alpaca bites over the years, but that was to be expected, so he didn’t mind. He still couldn’t wait until he could do the kind of work Sen did and actually move on to growing vegetables; of course, as long as he could still play with the alpacas every day as well.

Grandpa assured him that he would be able to do both, and told him not to worry. That’s what Clear loved about him the most – how easygoing he was. Clear was like that too, so the two of them made for a very relaxed and stress-free home – a big accomplishment, considering they had to maintain a farm. Sen was different than the two, and thought their laidback natures were childish and idiotic, but he still held respect for his father and didn’t argue with him. Clear, on the other hand, he usually berated; however, his words never broke through Clear’s thick skin, so he gave up easily.

After attending to the cria and jumping into Suzy’s fluff, Clear ran back indoors to find Sen still slowly eating his breakfast and doing something on his “coil” – Clear still wasn’t completely sure what a “coil” was, but it sounded interesting to him.

Clear ran up and jumped to sit on their small dining table, earning a irritable glance from Sen, who was reaching across to open up the blinds and let light in. Their entire house had an unusual amount of windows, and Sen opened the blinds of each one sometime throughout the day; by the time lunch rolled around, the natural light brightened up the whole house. This habit of his was one of the many things Clear liked about Sen; occasionally, Clear would list these things to him, but he would always ignore him as usual. Clear didn’t mind.

“When are you going to go work?” Clear asked Sen animatedly. Sen shot him a look of mild disgust before answering.

“Soon.” The teenager tilted his head down to continue messing with his coil, but was stopped by Clear’s melodic voice again.

“Can I watch you today?”

Sen sighed. “I guess. Nothing much to watch.” But he didn’t question it; Clear was always into doing weird things. He suspiciously looked to Clear’s smiling face again and decided to engage him.

“Oi, see this?” He held up his wrist to fully display his coil to Clear. The boy nodded eagerly. “Dad says he’s going to buy you one soon.”

Clear gasped in excitement. “No way! But… I don’t even know how to use those! ...You have to teach me, you know. Or maybe I can ask Yousei or Korina to teach me about it…” He started mumbling to himself, thinking of his classmates who were recently showing off their own coils.

“Don’t be too eager. You know dad; by “soon” he probably means years from now.”

“Still… You have to teach me!” Clear wasn’t disheartened. Sen sighed again before standing up, not giving him an answer.

“I’m going to work.” He walked out slowly, Clear watching his movements before jumping off the table.

“I’m coming!”

After two hours of watching Sen relentlessly plow the earth, Clear decided he’d had enough for the day and went back inside to the parlor, where the piano was. Their house was small, with only two bathrooms, a kitchen/dining area that also doubled as a living room, a parlor, and two bedrooms – one that Sen and Clear shared. The parlor was Clear’s favorite place to be, though, since the two “most important” things were there.

The first was the piano; Clear had listened to Grandpa play beautiful music on it for as long as he could remember, and soon decided to teach himself as well. Grandpa and Sen sometimes taught him, but he quickly surpassed Sen – who was never that into it anyway – and Grandpa had more important things to do. Music was a very important thing in Clear’s life. He couldn’t fathom being away from the farm, but being a musician didn’t seem like a bad idea to him either.

The second thing was the picture. There were many pictures kept on top of the piano, all in frames of different sizes, and all including Grandpa, Sen, or Clear. For all of them, Clear could remember exactly where and when they were taken: the harvest festival, the 10k race, Sen winning first place in his kyudo competition two years ago. However, the picture farthest to the left of the bunch was one that Clear didn’t know about. It was in a small black frame; nothing to be excited about. But it displayed a young boy, probably in his early teens, with light ginger hair, looking into the camera with a near expressionless gaze. Clear could almost hear him asking, in a cynical tone, “Why are you taking a picture of me?”

Clear didn’t know who this person was – had never seen them before in his life. He thought to ask who the person was, but always stopped himself because of an unknown feeling. Instead, he found himself enraptured by the picture day by day, always silently wondering about it. Because apart from his hair color, the boy in the picture looked exactly like an older version of himself.

 

 

The next morning, Clear woke up for the first time feeling not okay. He rolled too far to the side of his bed, so much that he almost hit the floor. But he caught himself, and slowly stood up, making his way to the mirror above his and Sen’s shared dresser. Looking at himself, he sighed. Why did he feel so bad this morning? He knew some negative things were going to happen today, but he didn’t expect that to affect how he was feeling. It honestly confused him.

A sleepy Sen came up behind him and grabbed his shoulders, startling Clear. “Get ready. We need to work before the bus comes to pick us up for school…” He yawned and pushed Clear to the door roughly. “Breakfast is already done…”

As the two made their way through breakfast and farm work, Clear’s negative feelings were pushed away. Sen’s coarse attitude towards him was comforting, and managed to cheer him up somewhat. By the time he had changed into his uniform and was waiting for the bus with Sen, he had almost completely forgotten about his melancholy.

The bus soon arrived, and the two boys got on, Sen immediately going to sit with his older friends who didn’t even spare a glance towards Clear. Clear sat next to the girl he always sat with – she was quiet, and he was only acquaintances with her. They occasionally talked to each other, but only small things. After all, the only reason they sat next to each other was because they were in the same class, which they shared with no one else on the bus. Clear didn’t mind that she was quiet, either; it’s not like he had that many friends, anyway. Or any close friends. He had plenty of acquaintances; almost everyone in the school knew of him. But no one was interested in him enough to become anything more than normal, not-close friends. Clear was fine with things that way, though.

As the hour-long drive to school passed, Clear noticed the conversations die down as they usually did, and some students started to fall asleep. He couldn’t blame them; it wasn’t even six in the morning yet, so of course some people probably didn’t get a full eight hours of sleep. He and Sen had to wake up every morning at almost four to eat breakfast and do some quick farm work – in their pajamas still, since they didn’t want to dirty their school uniform. Even now, he could spot Sen’s head drooping in exhaustion. He felt bad for the others, but he himself was never that tired in the mornings, luckily. That led him to watching all of the other students doze off as the bud trekked on, occasionally stopping to pick someone up. Where Clear lived, everyone’s houses were very far spread apart, so it took a long time to get every child to the school.

By the time they reached the school building, Clear’s negative feelings were resurfacing. He tried not to let it show, but by the time he was at his desk and the bell was ringing, his eyes were lowered and his fists were clenched in agitation.

Something buoyant hit his head from behind, and he slowly turned around in his seat to see his friend Steve, who had transferred to the school a year ago and made friends with almost everyone in their class.

“Did you just throw a paper ball at my head?”

The brunet boy raised his eyebrows and replied, “Well, _yeah_ , of course I did. What’s wrong with you, Clear? You don’t look so good today. You didn’t even fasten your tie…”

Clear smiled slightly as his friend reached over to fasten his bolo tie. “I’m fine… The teacher is going to yell at us if you keep talking!” That said, Clear turned around again as soon as Steve was done.

“You can’t fool me, Clear!” A harsh whisper sounded behind him, and Clear smiled again at his friend’s concern. He still felt sad inside, though, and couldn’t figure out why.

When lunch came, Steve immediately took Clear’s arm and dragged him to one of the courtyards outside. Clear let himself be dragged, and his mouth twitched up slightly as Steve exclaimed to him, “Okay! Tell me what’s wrong now.”

Clear sat down at the picnic table to eat and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel well today. Maybe it’s going to rain soon…”

From across the table Steve shot him an exasperated look. “But you like the rain, Clear. You like everything practically… Do you feel sick then?”

Swallowing a bite of his egg salad sandwich, Clear shook his head. “No. I’m just not happy, you know? I feel sort of like crying…”

“How can you say that with a straight face?” Steve almost yelled, before sighing. “Did anything happen?”

“No…” His voice lowered. “But something is going to happen…”

“What?” Steve leaned forward in anticipation.

“Suzy is getting killed today.”

He blinked. “S-Suzy? …Who’s Suzy?”

“She’s an alpaca.”

Steve’s shoulders drooped. “Oh. On your farm, right?”

“Yeah. She’s my favorite.”

Curiosity sated, Steve leaned back and continued casually, “Well, if she’s your favorite, of course you would be sad. You can cry now if you want, I won’t make fun.”

“But… Why does it make sense that I’m sad?” Clear had stopped eating.

Steve screwed his face up in confusion. “It just does! Your favorite alpaca getting killed is a sad thing to happen. So, it makes you sad. Death is sad. Duh.”

“But I’m not a sad person! You’ve said it before, I’m always happy…”

“Just because you’re a happy person doesn’t mean you can’t get sad, Clear. You know this! Being sad for a while doesn’t mean you’re not going to be a happy person anymore.”

Despite Steve’s reasoning, Clear was still confused by the situation. “I’ve never been sad before…”

Steve laughed. “It’s not like you just can’t experience sadness, Clear! I know it’s a sucky feeling, but you can’t _not_ feel it, so quit complaining.”

“I’m not complaining!” Clear whined, making Steve chuckle more. “I just… I didn’t think this would happen. Other alpacas have died and I didn’t feel like this. I’ve known that Suzy was going to be put down for a long time now, but I didn’t feel bad about it until today.”

“Well, it probably didn’t hit you until now. I said already, if you want to cry, then you can go ahead.”

“Okay…”

Clear’s face still hadn’t warped in sadness, and Steve watched in surprise as a few lone tears fell across his neutral expression. After a few moments, Clear bowed his head and began to eat again, muttering a “thank you”.

Steve blinked a few times before softly laughing again. “Clear… You’re really weird.”

Clear looked up, red tracks of his tears still faint across his face. He laughed with him. “I get it, you always tell me that…”

Steve laughed even harder. “No, I mean it. You’re _really_ weird. Are you sure you’re not an alien?”

Throwing his empty juice box at Steve, Clear rose his voice in protest. “ _No_ , I’m not an alien! But if I were, you _so_ wouldn’t be laughing at me right now…! _Sto~p it!_ You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Wiping tears of mirth from his own eyes, Steve conceded. “I just wasn’t expecting that…”

Even though Clear was peeved at Steve still making fun of him, he felt much better afterwards. So much that when he was able to say his last goodbyes to Suzy when he got home, he didn’t cry at all.

 

 

“How long until you come back?”

Koujaku sighed sadly, unable to look away from Aoba and Sei’s gloomy faces. “I don’t know… But we won’t be gone forever.”

“That’s right!” Koujaku’s mother smiled sympathetically, leaning down and holding onto Koujaku’s shoulders. “Even if we don’t come back permanently, we can still visit! I promise.”

Nevertheless, tears welled up in Aoba’s eyes. Sei smiled thankfully. “Okay. We’ll miss you.”

“You guys better have AllMates by the time we come back here! A bird needs more friends, yanno?” Beni piped up from Koujaku’s shoulder, earning a grin from Koujaku. Aoba laughed through his tears.

“Y-Yeah..!”

“Once again, thank Tae-san for all she’s done to help us-…” Koujaku’s mother went on, but was cut off by an announcement resonating through the airport. She put her hand to her cheek. “Oh, looks like that’s us…”

Aoba and Sei tightly hugged her and Koujaku, then waved as they disappeared into the crowd of people. Aoba continued staring at where they were for a few moments, before Sei tugged on his hand.

“Come on... We promised Mizuki the three of us would hang out today.” Aoba nodded shakily and followed Sei outside. It was only once they walked four blocks that Sei spoke again.

“Aren’t you excited?” He asked casually, turning slightly to look at Aoba.

“E-Excited?” Aoba sputtered, voice still thick from crying. “What do… I have to be excited about?”

“Oh, so you did forget…? Our birthday is next week, Aoba.”

“…So?”

“We’re going to be eleven.”

There was a pause, and a switch flicked in Aoba’s head. He finally smiled again. “W-We can get AllMates! Really? I’m so excited!”

Sei laughed as Aoba jumped in excitement, but stopped in confusion when he suddenly lowered his head and became sad again. “What’s wrong? I thought you’ve been waiting for this…”

“Yeah, but…” Aoba sniffed, and his voice warbled. “K-Koujaku won’t be there… Beni was wanting us to get AllMates too and…” He put his hands to his face as Sei sighed and hugged him from the side.

“I know… But we can still show them the next time they visit, right?”

Aoba rubbed his face and nodded. “Okay…”

 

 

Sighing softly under his breath every once in a while, Clear hummed to himself impatiently as he watched the kids sitting around him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be here; on the contrary, he always cherished any time that he could hang out with the group of kids that he could actually call “friends” instead of just “people he’d talked to a few times”. At the moment, he was just mildly annoyed with them, that’s all.

“Come on! Faster! Faster!” One of the more energetic boys, Yasuo, yelled in delight. Everyone at the table was watching Hitomi as she plunged the small knife between her fingers and into the table, going faster with each round.

Clear looked to Steve beside him, and whispered, “Do you get the point of this? What is she trying to do?”

Steve, mildly interested in the display, mumbled to him without looking away. “She’s trying to go as fast as she can without hurting herself. It’s just fun, Clear.”

Clear looked back at Hitomi in surprise. “This is _fun_? What’s going to happen if she gets hurt?”

“Someone else has to do it after her. That’s the rule.”

Immediately after Steve’s explanation, a short cry erupted from Hitomi, and everyone hollered in excitement. Face annoyed, Hitomi slowly lifted up her right index finger, which had little rivulets of crimson blood now flowing from it. “I lost…” She sighed in agitation, most of the kids looking in amazement at her finger as a few reached for the knife. Steve got to it first, though.

“Okay!” He proclaimed, holding up the small blade for a few seconds, before pointing it at Clear, who jumped slightly in surprise. “Clear! You can try next, since you seemed so interested in it.”

Waving his hands nervously, Clear protested, “No I wasn’t! I’m not interested in it at all! I don’t want to!”

“Don’t be a baby, it’s not that bad,” Hitomi interrupted through her finger now in her mouth. The others agreed, although Clear heard one mumble “Unless he accidentally stabs through his hand or something…”

Steve, still holding out the knife, stared at Clear expectantly. Heaving a huge sigh, Clear conceded and took the handle, putting his hand on the table. He heard a few whoops of excitement from around him.

It took only three swings before he failed. “Ow!” He exclaimed softly as he winced and dropped the knife. The skin between his middle and ring fingers was dyed a dark reddish-brown.

Some students let out moans of disappointment, and from beside him he heard Steve sigh, “I should’ve known you weren’t going to last long…”

Clear almost started feeling ashamed, before Hitomi piped up, “Clear’s blood looks weird, doesn’t it?”

Steve looked closer at Clear’s hand, inspecting the color. Clear stayed silent, confused, as he eventually said, “I don’t know what you mean. Looks like blood to me.”

Hitomi sighed in frustration before taking out her finger again, holding it out to show them as drops of blood appeared again from her cut. She held it over Clear’s own injured hand, and the kids murmured in amazement as they saw the difference.

“His blood is way darker than mine. And browner. What’s up with that?”

Most of the kids, including Clear and Hitomi, looked to Steve for an answer; he was the most knowledgeable, after all. After a few moments, Steve sighed and proclaimed, “Well, he obviously is blood type AB. People with that blood type tend to have darker blood.”

Hitomi glared, not buying it. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never heard of that before in my life! Blood type has nothing to do with your blood color.”

Steve scowled back in agitation. “Yes it does! My brother said so once!”

Sheepishly, Clear mumbled, “I don’t think I have AB blood type…”

“Then what type is it?” Steve questioned, determined.

“I-I dunno…”

“You guys!” Another boy interjected nervously. “I think a teacher is coming! You’re going to get in trouble!”

Hitomi quickly grabbed the knife and tried to hide it as some of the kids dispersed in fear, but most sat down again as soon as they saw who was coming – not a teacher, but two upperclassmen.

“What are you doing?” One of the older boys questioned suspiciously, while the other one behind him crossed his arms. Clear knew about them both; they were fifteen, almost three years younger than Sen. The one speaking was new here; Clear didn’t know his name, but Steve had told him about him, since Steve knew practically everything somehow. He’d moved from an island a few months ago, and his family was pretty important, so he’d made friends fast. He had black hair, and looked pretty uncomfortable in his school uniform – probably didn’t have to wear them where he came from, Clear thought.

“Uh… Why do you care?” Hitomi replied, crossing her arms to try and hide the blade better. The teenager still saw it, though and snatched it from her while she yelped in protest.

“And what is a group of eleven-year-olds doing with a knife, huh?” The second boy inquired derisively as the first one inspected the blade. Eventually, he looked back to the group.

“Who brought this here?”

Hitomi puffed up again in agitation, and argued, “It’s not like it’s dangerous! We know how to handle it!”

“You’re bleeding.”

She huffed and put her finger in her mouth again, flushing in anger. The second boy sighed and looked to the first.

“Koujaku-san, let’s just take the ones that are injured and go to the principal.”

“Sounds good to me.” The first boy – now dubbed Koujaku – grabbed Hitomi by the arm and also reached for Clear, seeing his hand. Clear scooted away in objection.

“W-Wait a minute! I didn’t mean to…”

Steve also argued from beside Clear, “Yeah, hold on! Clear actually didn’t want to do this. He isn’t the bad guy here. If you have to blame someone, blame me because I sort of forced Clear to hurt himself. Sorry.”

Koujaku sent a disgusted look towards Steve. “I’ll be sure to mention that. But his fault or not, he’s injured pretty badly so we need to take him. He’s not going to get in trouble.” With that said, Clear let himself be dragged to the nurse by the older boys, feeling thankful towards Steve in the back of his mind.

Halfway through Clear getting his hand bandaged up, Koujaku walked into the nurse’s office to sit next to him. He studied him for a few moments before reporting, “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. But your friend has detention for a month.”

Clear looked down, mourning for Steve a bit, before looking back to Koujaku. “How come you stepped in?”

“I’m a prefect.”

“Oh…” Clear thought to himself, of course a regular student wouldn’t have bothered to stop it.

“So, you’re Clear, right? Sen’s brother?”

Shaking his head immediately, Clear automatically corrected, “Sen isn’t my brother. We’re family, though.”

Koujaku blinked in confusion, but sighed, feeling that he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “Okay, sorry… Hey, why did you do that if you didn’t want to?”

Clear looked up in surprise at the question, and answered thoughtfully, “Well, everyone else thought it was fun… And I had never done something like that before. I guess a part of me sort of wanted to see what it would be like…” He stopped himself from saying any more when he noticed the confused, speculative look on Koujaku’s face as the teenager stared at Clear’s hand. As soon as the nurse was fastened the bandages, Clear yanked his hand to his side, away from Koujaku’s eyes.

Koujaku’s confusion left his face and he looked to Clear, a kind smile growing. “Well, that’s dumb, okay? Don’t do something just because your friends tell you to. Especially if it’s something as ridiculous as stabbing yourself.”

Clear nodded seriously. “Okay!”

“I’ve got my eye on you, kid.” Koujaku ruffled Clear’s hair and left the room, Clear laughing a little. Inside, he felt confused though. Confused at his friends and Koujaku, sure, but mostly confused at himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually don't add original characters, but DMMD just doesn't have enough for me to work with in this story so I sort of had to.


	3. Chapter 3

“Honey, I’m so sorry. If you could forgive me…”

Amid the woman’s soft sobs, the silver chimes outside the door jingled in the wind. Koujaku heard them and sighed, untying his shoulder-length hair to let it fall free.

“I forgive you, mom. It’s okay…”

“No, it’s not… I’m _so_ sorry, really…” Her cries rose in volume, and Koujaku gritted his teeth.

“Stop it!”

It was silent, and Koujaku’s tense shoulders fell in guilt as his mother grabbed him into a tight hug. She buried her face in his shoulder, and he closed his eyes. Her long hair, black as coal, smelled like cherries, and he allowed himself to feel comforted by it.

“My poor baby…” He still heard her sorrowful murmurs close to his ear, but he didn’t try and silence her this time. It was the least he could do.

She was just too exhausted by everything, he knew. He knew that tomorrow in the morning, it would probably be best for him to make breakfast for her as a gift, and wake her up in time so he could drag her to the table. He knew he would probably brush her hair and pick out her outfit for her. His “father” also knew, but Koujaku knew he wouldn’t do anything about it.

Everyone in the family knew the lengths Koujaku would go to, caring for his mother, but no one knew that Koujaku really felt that he was the one being cared for the whole time. His mother had taught him everything he knew, after all. What would he ever do without her?

 

 

“So, you said you finally got a coil? Let me see.”

At Koujaku’s voice, Clear looked up from the baby alpaca he was brushing, which made a sound of contentment and trotted off. The pre-teen stood up and stretched, brushing off his plain shirt before making his way out of the barn as well.

“Sure! Let’s go inside. Grandpa bought it for me yesterday, but I still don’t really know how to use it…”

“I can help.”

“Does this mean that you’re going to get an AllMate soon too?” Beni asked eagerly from his perch on Koujaku’s shoulder. Clear smiled sheepishly at the bird.

“I don’t think so, sorry. With all the alpacas, I don’t think I need any pets.”

Beni puffed his feathers indignantly and shouted, “Not _pets_ , idiot! AllMates are much more sophisticated than some smelly beasts! Get it right!”

Koujaku laughed as Clear pouted at the mention of “smelly beasts”. “Okay, Beni, I think he gets it.”

It had been about a year since Clear first met Koujaku, and since then, the two had grown to be close friends. Koujaku was the first person Clear ever invited to his home; his presence made a strong and positive impact in Clear’s life. He never realized how lonely he’d been until Koujaku came along, and now he felt more than grateful.

Once they were in the parlor, Clear displayed his coil to Koujaku and Beni. They were unimpressed with the model – of _course_ Clear’s Grandpa would get him the version that was released two years ago – but still taught him more about how it worked.

“You could also use this feature to video chat with people that are really far away, but you’ve lived here all your life, haven’t you? I don’t think I need to teach you that…”

Clear’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, right… Do you use yours to talk to your old friends from the island, then?”

Koujaku’s eyes widened in surprise, but he soon smiled nostalgically. “Not really, no. I don’t think any of them have coils yet, though. I have no way of knowing if they do…” He frowned.

“Oh, sorry! You must miss your friends…” Clear frowned as well; he’d started to feel strange when Koujaku was talking. What was this?

“Well, of course I do… But I’m going to see them someday again, probably… You know, you remind me of one of my friends. Maybe it’s just because you’re the same age…”

Clear’s eyes brightened. “Who?”

“Just my friend Aoba. You’re both disgustingly sweet and childish.” Koujaku started laughing immediately as Clear punched him in the shoulder. “Hey! I was being serious!”

“Me too…”

Koujaku smiled sadly, then stood up, planning on getting himself a glass of water. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m not going to move back anytime soon, so you can have me all to yourself.”

Clear blanched in surprise at his comment. “W-What? What’s that supposed to mean?” Koujaku didn’t answer him, still laughing to himself. Clear frowned in agitation, but he also came to a realization with what Koujaku said.

That feeling he was having before was probably… jealousy. He had never been jealous of anyone before, and here he was being envious of some boy who he’d never met. He felt stupid for it, but he knew it was just because he didn’t want Koujaku, his only friend, to leave him for some other friends that he probably liked more anyway…

Walking back over with his drink, Koujaku paused when he saw Clear’s distraught expression. “Hey… You okay?” He asked, concerned.

Looking up, Clear schooled his face into a happy smile. “Yeah, I’m fine…! What about you?”

Koujaku blinked a couple times before smirking. “Just fine, thanks for asking. Really, what’s with you? You’re acting weirder than you usually do.”

“I just…” Clear searched his mind for a subject changer, and found one. “Uh, Katsuo was telling me a couple days ago that he was worried about you, so I was worried too. He says you get angry at stupid stuff a lot more.” Well, it was true. Katsuo was probably Koujaku’s closest friend other than Clear, so he and Clear also grew to be friends eventually.

There was a pause, and Clear noticed Koujaku actually seemed surprised that Clear had come up with a serious excuse. “...’Angry at stupid stuff’, huh? What does he mean by that?”

Clear looked to the side; maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bring this up. “He just was saying that you were more hot-headed than usual. Agitated easily, I guess? He’s just worried.”

“I know…” Koujaku sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Why?” Clear met his eyes. “Are you having problems with your dad or something?”

Koujaku laughed sardonically, and Clear felt himself grow cold inside at the sound. “Something like that. Don’t worry about it… Hey, you said you wrote a new song, right? I want to listen to it.”

“Sure!” Clear grinned and ran to the piano, already feeling more light-hearted. He wouldn’t pry with Koujaku – just trying to make him feel better was all he could do.

 

 

The entire classroom was deadly silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock, and it was driving Clear completely insane. He looked at the half-completed test on his desk, fidgeting with his tie every so often and tapping his pencil on the desk agitatedly. There was no way he could concentrate – not today, not like this. He knew Steve, sitting behind him as he did every year, was probably so close to throwing a paper ball at his head to stop the incessant tapping. So he shot a glare behind him, and sure enough, Steve guiltily looked down at a half-crumpled paper, mumbling complaints to himself.

Koujaku hadn’t shown up outside school today. In the morning before class, he and Clear, along with some of Koujaku’s friends, would usually hang out outside the building before the bell rang. But Koujaku was nowhere to be seen today, and Katsuo’s worries about it had transferred to Clear.

“He’s been acting so strange lately!” Katsuo had fumed, thoughtlessly and furiously chewing a piece of gum while he talked. “He’s just not himself, yanno? And now this… Koujaku-san would always let me know why he’d be absent! He didn’t tell me anything about today, though! What if he’s in trouble or something?”

One of the other guys told Katsuo to calm down and dragged him to class, but those words stayed in Clear’s mind and festered there throughout the entire morning. He hadn’t noticed, but maybe Koujaku was acting stranger recently? Maybe it was something that only his older friends could notice? Not to mention…

His blood ran cold at his thoughts. Perhaps Koujaku had moved away and didn’t tell him… They were just talking about it the weekend before, weren’t they? Sure, Koujaku had said he wouldn’t move back anytime soon, but maybe that had just planted the idea in his mind and led him to decide that he actually would. Or…

Maybe Koujaku’s dad had done something really terrible? He did say that he was having trouble with his dad again… Then again, he _always_ was. Clear had never seen the man, though. The few times he’d been over to Koujaku’s house, the only parent he ever saw was Koujaku’s mother, who was very nice. His dad just didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be interested in his son’s life or friends, Clear guessed. He’d also heard that he was a very important man, so he probably had a lot of work to do…

Clear, feeling overwhelming worry and pity for whatever his friend might’ve been going through at the very moment, couldn’t take it anymore. He told the teacher that he felt sick, and ran to the bathroom, stopping to lean over the sink. This was insane; he actually _did_ feel sick. He was blessed with a perfect immune system, Grandpa had commented to him on multiple occasions, so how did he now feel like he was going to puke?

He slowly raised his head to look at himself in the mirror, and the nausea hit him in waves. “This isn’t good…” He mumbled to himself, with of course no reply. As he stared into his own eyes, trying to focus on something to make the nauseous feeling go away, he noticed something. His eyes were more reflective and glassy than normal; he could see his own face _perfectly_ in them.

“Is it because of the mirror…?” He muttered to himself breathlessly, looking around to see if there could be anything wrong. Nothing. It might be because he was about to cry, he thought, and sure enough, a few tears fell down his face. He hadn’t felt them coming, but they continued to fall. His vision wasn’t blurred by them; instead, he stood silently, still staring at his own face. He’d never thought about it until now, but he didn’t particularly like his face. The moles on his chin stood out too much, and his complexion made him look like a ghost. His eyes were too light, too _clear_. They still didn’t look _okay_ to him, and it scared him a little. Maybe he would ask Grandpa…

His fists clenched. First he felt jealous, now he was sick and crying for the first time since Suzy was killed. Maybe having a close friend wasn’t so nice after all.

 

 

Meanwhile, Koujaku sat silently as his mother brushed his hair in the dimly lit, red room. He scowled while looking forward, determined to keep his head still and refusing to respond to his mother’s muttered apologies.

“Look… I know this isn’t… ideal. But we could get a lot of money, and-“

Koujaku failed to keep silent, and whipped his head around to look at her incredulously. “ _A lot of money?_ Is that so important…?”

The woman realized what she had said and lowered her head in shame. “That’s not… Koujaku… I’m so…” She desperately pulled him into a hug for probably the sixth time that day, and he yielded, hugging her back.

After a while, he pulled away and stood up. “Whatever... I’ll go, okay? Don’t wait outside the door, please.”

His mother stood up as well, looking seriously at him through her tears. “Know that this wasn’t your father’s idea, okay? It was just a proposition that was brought to him. Don’t hate him for this, Koujaku.”

He shot her a skeptical look again. “Wh-“

“Hate him for _other_ reasons.”

Koujaku paused in shock. “…Okay.”

She smiled at him lovingly. “You’re my son. I’m so proud of you, Koujaku.”

He blushed in embarrassment and turned around to walk through the door. “Yeah, yeah…”

Taking deep breaths as he made his way to the second door, he tried to think optimistically. After all of this, his mother would be treated better, wouldn’t she? That was more than enough of a reason for this being worth it, right?

Still, he couldn’t suppress the overwhelming fear at what was going to happen to him. It couldn’t just be a simple tattoo. If it were, his father wouldn’t look so intrigued; his mother wouldn’t look so sorry. They were probably going to torture him or something – inject something into him…

Shivering, he opened the doors – no use hesitating now. Inside was his father, sitting on the opposite side of the room while smoking his pipe, and a young man who had been staying with their family for a couple of weeks. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with ash blond hair and the eyes of a fox. Koujaku had been suspicious of him from the beginning – looks like he was right to be apprehensive. The only light in the room was the flickering of a dozen candles, dying everything red and creating shadows to dance across the walls. Koujaku didn’t want to be there.

“Nice of you to finally join us.” The foxlike man spoke in a svelte, thin voice that made Koujaku’s eye twitch involuntarily.

“So, Ryuuhou, do you need me to leave?” His father’s gruff voice violently broke the silence, and the other man looked towards him. Koujaku just now noticed that the man was holding something in his hand – a thin rod? He was methodically dipping it in some weird substance, and Koujaku felt more apprehensive by the minute.

“Only if you want to leave.” The fox-man – Ryuuhou – replied casually, swirling the rod around in the thick fluid before pulling it out and sheathing it with another thin piece of metal that ended in a sharp point. “I’ve experimented with this before, but never to this extent, so if something goes wrong, you may want to be here for it.”

“Fine by me.” Koujaku’s father grunted, bringing the pipe to his lips again. Hearing them talk so casually about whatever was going to be done to him made the color drain from Koujaku’s face.

“What are you waiting for, boy? Lay down over there.” His father gestured to the mat on the floor next to Ryuuhou, who smirked at him. It didn’t matter how much he was afraid; it wasn’t like he could run away now. With hesitant steps, he soundlessly made his way to the mat. Ryuuhou was motionless as he did this, as if he thought Koujaku was a wild deer that would flee at the slightest movement.

As Koujaku slowly lowered himself on his back, Ryuuhou interjected. “On your stomach.” He gritted his teeth, but complied, resting his chin on the pillow.

On his back seemed worse, though; this way, he couldn’t see anything, and waiting in silent agony while hearing sounds of clinking metal behind him. It seemed like hours had passed before he felt a hand grip forearm firmly and something cold pricking at his skin, going in…

“Ah!” He yelped instinctually, not expecting the pain. Ryuuhou chuckled softly from behind him, and his blood boiled in anger.

“I apologize, dear; there’s no way to mask the pain of this, since…” He trailed off, and Koujaku’s fists clenched. Hearing this man call him “dear” made his skin crawl in disgust.

“Aren’t I going to get some sort of anesthesia…?” He forced out the question from between his teeth, and Ryuuhou laughed again. His laughter sounded hysterical for a moment, and Koujaku started to feel more afraid than angry.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. With a project like this, anesthesia would just heighten the chances of something going wrong… And even if it was safe, why would I want to do that? It’s so much more effective for you to experience _everything_ , take it in with your _whole body_ , let it stimulate your brain, kindle your skin…” A hand ran through his hair, and Koujaku trembled in disgust and terror. This guy was fucking insane…!

“Hold still, now…”

There were bolts of pain; starting at his shoulders, going down his spine… Koujaku yelled and screamed immediately as it started, writhing violently to try and get away. He stopped his struggling as his father’s voice rang through the room.

“Don’t squirm around! Make this as easy as possible for Ryuuhou. Who knows, he may accidentally kill you if you move around too much…” His laughter, harsh and guttural, was loud in the small room, but Koujaku could still hear Ryuuhou’s soft laughter more clearly. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he moved his right arm to his face so he could bite into it – the least he could do, if he couldn’t even move…

“Aw, poor dear…” Ryuuhou murmured, the delight evident in his voice, and Koujaku’s skin crawled in aversion. His own skin seemed to want to get away from Ryuuhou’s voice – away from the metal piercing into it – but resistance was futile.

It lasted for hours. The pain was more unbearable each passing minute, and Koujaku tasted blood pooling in his mouth and dripping down his arm. Eventually, Ryuuhou moved to his lower back and side, but Koujaku barely noticed the change, as his whole body seemed to be now on fire. Yet he took his father’s advice and stayed unmoving, aside from the involuntary quake in his muscles every now and then. It hurt more to move, anyway.

Once in a while, some sort of liquid would be splashed on his back – what it was, Koujaku didn’t know, but it stung like a motherfucker. The liquid pooled to his sides, along with his blood and sweat, and Koujaku felt dizzy. His throat hurt from crying and screaming. When could it be over, when could it be…

He realized, after three silent minutes, that Ryuuhou had stopped his work. Koujaku wanted to look over his shoulder to see, but his neck was too stiff, and he was afraid to move it. He heard Ryuuhou sigh, though.

“I think I’ll let this sit, and get back to it later… Don’t want to be too hasty, right?” Koujaku relaxed at his words – a break from this pain was all he desired – but tensed up again as a hand brushed his cheek. Ryuuhou’s hand was almost freezing against his own skin, which was hot from the pain. As much as Koujaku’s stomach turned in revulsion, he couldn’t help but lean into the cold hand in relief. Immediately, he felt disgust with himself.

“Such a pretty face… This structure…” The words repulsed Koujaku, but he didn’t want to lean away from the pleasant coolness.

“Do whatever you want with it.”

His father’s words struck into Koujaku – with his pain, he’d completely forgotten that his father was in the room. Sadness and fear overcame him. Did his father even know what he was saying? “Whatever he wants”?

Ryuuhou hummed nonchalantly and lifted Koujaku’s face up. His neck strained, and he moaned in pain at the burning feeling through his shoulders. He still couldn’t see Ryuuhou’s face, but he knew Ryuuhou was studying him attentively. Suddenly hearing the sound of liquid pouring, he expected to feel something across his back again, but didn’t.

“…Well… This isn’t _technically_ anesthesia, so why not… Besides, we’ve come so far with no problems yet… I want to make you even more beautiful, _Koujaku_ …” His name sounded dirty when Ryuuhou said it; it was like knives to Koujaku’s ears.

Ryuuhou’s cold hand left his face, but returned holding a cup of liquid. With his other hand, he stuffed his fingers into Koujaku’s mouth and pried it open, dumping the liquid in. Koujaku coughed and sputtered, almost vomiting, as the fluid washed down his throat and spilled over his chin. It tasted sweet but strong, and made his eyes burn.

Retreating, Ryuuhou wiped his hands on a towel, and Koujaku heard the sound of metal clanking again. He couldn’t pay attention, though, as his head started to feel heavy and his vision blurred. His head was pushed down by something, and Koujaku allowed it, facing the wall so one side of his face was pressed to the pillow. Ryuuhou brushed his hair away from the visible side of his face and covered his eyes to close them; they were starting to feel heavy anyway. Koujaku found he couldn’t open them again, and he began to feel like he was on a boat – the room rocked back and forth, and his stomach flipped over and over. It wasn’t a completely unpleasant feeling, but it was enough to make him uncomfortable.

Vaguely, he heard his father and Ryuuhou trading words, but they sounded so muffled to his ears, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. The fear that had been so real to him before was stifled now; all he felt currently was tiredness, yet his mind still wouldn’t let him fall asleep. There was something scratching along his face, he blearily realized, and it hurt, but his mouth felt like it was filled with molasses. He couldn’t scream.

The following hours, he remained caught in a limbo of sleep and restless pain. Eventually, he dreamed, but his dreams were foggy and filled with monsters he couldn’t run from.

 

 

Aoba, hopping in excitement every once in a while, waiting by his front door impatiently. Today was the day; he couldn’t contain his excitement.

After a few minutes of waiting, he heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet, and a small puff of blue fur appeared. “Aoba, we’re ready.” The AllMate spoke in a deep voice, contradicting its appearance.

Sure enough, Sei appeared not far behind, smiling tiredly. “Sorry for taking so long.”

Picking up the small dog AllMate, Aoba smiled back at his brother. “It’s fine! Let’s go!” He raised his voice as he turned to the door. “Bye Granny!”

Sei winced at Aoba’s shout and coughed a couple times, but laughed afterwards and exited the house with him and Ren. As they walked, he commented, “Jeez, Aoba, you’d think _you_ were the one getting an AllMate today.”

Aoba turned to him, grinning still. “Well, I’ve been waiting for you to get an AllMate since I got Ren! This is going to be awesome!” Ren, now trotting at Aoba’s side, nodded in agreement.

When Aoba and Sei had turned eleven, just like they’d promised each other, they went to the AllMate store with Granny. Unfortunately for them, there were no butterfly AllMates in stock, nor any cats or dogs with blue fur. Granny had reprimanded them both for their pickiness, but they refused to buy any of the available AllMates, and they left the store empty-handed. It was only half a year later had Aoba and Sei stumbled upon a small Pomeranian AllMate, abandoned on the side of the road.

Shocked by the sight, the twins took the dog home and quickly convinced Granny to keep him – with her boys teary-eyed, she couldn’t say no. When the AllMate was repaired and working, it was obvious he would go to Aoba instead of Sei; he was a dog with dark blue fur, just what Aoba had wanted. He named him Ren, and the bond between them was evident from the start. However, although Aoba was definitely Ren’s owner, Ren still obeyed and cared for Sei as well. The small dog was programmed to be very smart and look after the twins; Granny often said he was like a full-time babysitter, to Aoba’s embarrassment.

Aoba still had felt bad, though, because he had an AllMate of his own now while Sei still didn’t. He pleaded with Granny, and she eventually promised him that once they turned twelve, the two could go to the AllMate shop again and look for one to buy for Sei. Aoba hadn’t forgotten; they’d turned twelve a few weeks ago now, so it was time again.

The AllMates in the shop had definitely undergone some improvements since last year, and the new selections fascinated Aoba and Sei. They looked through the “insectoid” section first, but to their dismay, all the butterfly AllMates were taken already. There were plenty of spider-looking AllMates left, but that wasn’t good enough. As Aoba lamented to Ren, Sei spotted a section to his interest and wandered there alone.

“Aoba, Sei is gone.” Ren eventually interrupted, and Aoba widened his eyes, looking around wildly. Sure enough, Sei was nowhere to be seen. He immediately became nervous, and ran out of the aisle to wander the rest of the shop in search. Even after growing up so much, he still felt anxious when Sei wasn’t by his side; in fact, that feeling had only grown since Koujaku had left around a year ago. Not only that, but Sei had caught another cold recently. It wasn’t that Aoba thought he was weak or anything; he just couldn’t help but feel more worried for him when he was sick.

He scanned most of the sections, and when he entered the “faerie/fantasy” section, there was Sei staring at one of the displays. Aoba walked up to him in relief and took his hand. They didn’t hold hands as much as they used to – they were almost teenagers after all – but Aoba still reached for Sei sometimes. Sei noticed Aoba’s worry, and laughed.

“Sorry, sorry. But look at this. Do you think I could get it?”

Aoba looked to the display, and observed the AllMate Sei was now pointing to. It was a small fairy AllMate, probably a little bigger than his own hand. It looked like a girl; she had light blue hair and deep, shining blue wings, with a span probably around twelve inches. She wore a small dress and boots, and her eyes were closed – in sleep mode, like most of the AllMates on display. The most interesting thing about her, though, were her arms – she had ten of them, Aoba had counted.

Nodding in approval at the fascinating AllMate, Aoba turned to Sei again. “She’s cool! Let’s see what the price is!”

Sei smiled delightedly. “Yes… Almost like a butterfly, right? She reminds me of mom.”

Aoba looked back at the AllMate in surprise. “…You’re right. She reminds me of mom too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katsuo is supposed to be that one Benishigure member, by the way. You know, that cute one that likes dogs.
> 
> Also I forgot to mention that this is self-beta'd so I apologize if there are any mistakes! If you see any please tell me so I can correct them!

Clear had been thinking. Which, believe it or not, wasn’t the norm. Of course, it wasn’t like Clear was a mindless zombie, but he didn’t tend to do any introspective thinking. He took everything for what it was: the sky looked blue, alpacas were really fluffy, his hair just happened to be white… He’d never felt the need to question anything. It was what it was.

When had things changed? When had he started to look at himself differently? When had he started to feel… not like a normal person anymore? Or even like a person at all? He sat motionless at his small kitchen table, alone, looking out the window and contemplating these questions. Maybe he just experienced life differently than other people…

“Clear… Clear! Hey, Clear, listen to me.”

“Uwah?” Clear’s eyes widened as he snapped out of his stupor, Sen’s hand waving in front of his face. The older boy looked angry, as always.

“What are you…? Tch, never mind. Your friend is here to take you to your other friend’s house, or whatever…” Sen trailed off angrily and walked back outside, Clear still blinking. That’s right. Katsuo was supposed to take him to Koujaku’s house today to see him.

It had been about a month since Koujaku had been absent that one day. It hadn’t stopped there; he continued to be absent, and hadn’t come back to school since. At first, Clear came to the conclusion that Koujaku really _had_ moved back to the island – that he really had left him behind. But then Katsuo came to Clear saying that Koujaku was still here, and that he was alright. It might’ve been the most relieved Clear had ever been in his entire life.

Katsuo explained to him that Koujaku’s father _had_ done something bad – bad enough to keep Koujaku absent for a full month. He said that Koujaku now had “markings” all over his body, and Clear didn’t understand the significance of it, but Katsuo assured him – and all of Koujaku’s friends – that Koujaku was healing from it and would come back to school soon. Clear wouldn’t stand for just that, though; he wanted to see Koujaku for himself.

That led to Katsuo driving Clear to Koujaku’s house – a drive between two and three hours, so Katsuo said that it’d better be worth it. Clear hadn’t been to Koujaku’s house for a long time now, and was sort of nervous. All he remembered was that the complex was big; to Clear, it just seemed like three houses really close together. Koujaku’s family was large and important, though, so it made sense that they would need a large and important place to live.

Clear’s uneasiness grew as they pulled up to the house, but he schooled himself into a smile when they had to enter. Eventually, after walking through winding corridors that Clear would never be able to navigate by himself, Katsuo pushed him to the room Koujaku was supposedly in. They both saw Koujaku’s mother outside the room as well, and Katsuo said he wanted to talk to her while Clear was with Koujaku. The woman greeted Clear quietly at first, and Clear noticed that she looked particularly beautiful, but her eyes were sad. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as he left her and Katsuo behind to enter the room.

He saw Koujaku there, with his hair down and in a loose-fitting kimono, sitting on the side of a bed. Beni was there – they were seemingly talking – but when they noticed Clear enter, the small bird flew out the open window. Clear approached Koujaku, who looked rather surprised to see him there.

“Clear? What are you doing here?” Clear heard the question, but didn’t process it, too busy staring at Koujaku’s face. Half of it was bandaged up, his bangs haphazardly falling over the coverings. From what he could see, some parts of his shoulders were also bandaged; the parts that weren’t were dyed red. When Koujaku noticed Clear’s wandering eyes, he pulled his kimono tighter across himself to cover the exposed skin.

“What happened to you?” Clear asked thoughtlessly, but regretted his blunt word choice. Koujaku didn’t seem to mind, though.

“I’ll answer your question when you answer mine. What are you doing here? Who brought you?”

His gaze lowering in guilt, Clear mumbled, “Katsuo drove me…” He’d thought that Koujaku already knew he was coming, but he guessed he was wrong about that.

“Katsuo…” Koujaku sighed in aggravation, but relaxed. “Dammit… Whatever. I’ll get him later. Come, sit.” He gestured to the spot on the bed next to him, and Clear complied.

“Did Katsuo tell you what happened then?”

Suddenly feeling nervous, Clear hesitated before answering. “Um, not really. He told me that your dad marked your skin and you needed to recover from something…”

Koujaku looked at him with an emotion Clear couldn’t place, his fists clenched. “Not my dad. But yeah, well… I have these… tattoos.”

Clear gaped. “You got tattoos?”

“They aren’t a cool thing or anything, okay? I didn’t want to get them, and they hurt like a mother-… Sorry, but well, they aren’t even really normal tattoos… Basically, it’s more like I was injured, so I need to recover. I’m almost better now, though.” Throughout his explanation, Clear noticed Koujaku seemed less sure of himself than usual, as if he didn’t know how to use his words correctly. Clear managed to follow him, though, and nodded.

“Okay. Good… So that’s a tattoo on your face, then?”

“Yeah…” Koujaku lifted his hand as if he was going to touch his bandages, but restrained himself. “And on my back and shoulder, too. I guess you can see them later on if you want, but I’m still unsure if…” He trailed off, sounding unconfident, and although Clear didn’t know exactly what was going on, he nodded again.

“That’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay, Koujaku-san!” Koujaku looked at Clear’s smiling face in surprise.

“…’Koujaku-san’? Hm? You’ve never called me that before. What’s this all of a sudden?” He smirked teasingly as Clear’s face turned pink in embarrassment at what he’d said.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know… I-It just came out like that? Stop laughing!” At the boy’s laughter, Clear punched him in the shoulder. Seconds after, though, he became afraid that Koujaku would groan in pain and end up severely injured again. That didn’t happen, though; he just continued laughing and grinned at Clear in response.

“Really? It’s only been a month, have you really changed that much? Going to join that ‘Koujaku-san Fan Club’ Katsuo’s always talking about?”

Clear’s pale skin was red at this point, and he pouted. “’Koujaku-san Fan Club’? What-…?” He was going to go further, but stopped pouting and stared at Koujaku in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Hm?”

“You said I’ve changed…”

“Oh.” Koujaku’s smile faded. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it. Well, I think you’ve grown a few inches… Clear?”

“W-What?”

Koujaku’s eyes squinted. “Has anyone told you about your eyes?”

“My eyes…?” Clear’s hand reached up to touch his face, and his eyebrows furrowed. “I know… It happened last month, I think. They’re really glassy-looking, right…?”

“Yeah…” Koujaku’s face turned serious, and Clear’s stomach dropped. “If you’ve noticed your eyes looking weird, why haven’t you told anyone?”

“Uh, I was going to… I mean, no one else has said anything? Why haven’t they noticed?”

“They probably have noticed, but they didn’t mention it because they think you’re weird already.” Koujaku smiled at Clear’s annoyed expression, but turned serious with Clear’s next statement.

“I guess… I was going to ask Grandpa about it, to see if he could see what’s wrong with me, but… I just-“ His breath stuttered. “I just… am embarrassed! I don’t like how it looks, how I look, I…” He surprised himself with his own voice; it was wavering and choked, sounding like he was about to cry. But he didn’t feel the least bit like crying right now.

“Hey.” Koujaku pulled him into a hug, and Clear froze. “It’s okay to be embarrassed, Clear. You don’t look bad; you look perfectly healthy and pretty, okay?” Clear blushed and glared at him when they pulled away, but Koujaku still looked serious. “And what’s this about seeing ‘what’s wrong with you’? There’s likely nothing seriously wrong with you, Clear.”

“No! It’s not that. There’s something different about me. I’m different than everyone else, and…” Clear trailed off, not knowing how to explain it.

“ _Clear_.” Koujaku stared at Clear for a few solid seconds, and Clear had no idea what he was thinking about. But eventually, he spoke again. “You are different than everyone else.”

Clear’s breath caught.

“And that’s _perfectly fine_. In fact, it’s good. It means one day, it’ll be easier for you to know exactly who you are.”

Blinking, confused, Clear asked, “What do you mean? Doesn’t everyone know who they are?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Just don’t worry for now I guess.” Koujaku ruffled Clear’s hair and smiled at him again. “But, as soon as you get home, you _have_ to tell your grandpa about your eyes. Hell, you might even have cancer or something…”

“What?” Clear yelled and jumped up in worry. “Really?”

“Well, it definitely is a possibility, right?”

“Okay, I’ll tell Grandpa!”

Koujaku smiled in victory. “Good.”

And when Clear got home, that’s exactly what he did. Granted, he didn’t tell Grandpa that he’d been putting the talk off for a whole month; all he did was show him his eyes and express his concern. Usually, his Grandpa would’ve already noticed things like this, but Clear had been trying to hide his eyes from other people in shame, and it worked mostly. Not for Sen, though; the older boy had been throwing him suspicious glances for weeks now.

As soon as Grandpa saw his eyes, he scowled and took his arm, dragging him up the stairs. Clear was confused, but let himself be taken to the upstairs bathroom, where he sat on the toilet seat and was told to wait.

He waited nervously, and eventually Grandpa returned carrying strange-looking instruments that Clear had never seen before. He moved his hand to Clear’s neck and told him gently to close his eyes.

Sure enough, Clear closed his eyes, and he didn’t remember anything at all within the next few hours. But when he opened his eyes again, they were shining, radiant, and opaque.

 

 

Throughout the year that followed, things only continued to get worse for Koujaku. He could barely remember where his decline started or where it ended; all he saw was the pitying look on Katsuo’s face – the afraid look on Clear’s. Koujaku had let the younger boy look at his tattoos eventually, but snapped and slapped at him when he’d tried to touch the one on his face. Immediately he felt ashamed of himself.

“Koujaku-san, maybe you should take some more weeks off of school just to relax. I’m worried; you need to stop snapping at everyone, yanno?” Katsuo had said.

“Koujaku, I know this is hard, but you _cannot_ give in to what’s happened to you! Don’t let the anger take over, _please_... Oh, what happened to my polite baby boy? What happened…?” His mother had said.

_“Don’t listen to anyone_ ,” that voice, a part of him somewhere deep inside, had said. _“Forget about them. They don’t know **shit**. You’ll make them sorry. Look at them, living their everyday lives like your pain doesn’t **matter.** Like it **never** mattered. Make that **loser** feel sorry. Make that **bitch** feel sorry. Make that **ignorant, spacey little bastard of a boy** feel **sorry**.”_

He didn’t know why he was hearing it – or why it had the voice of _Ryuuhou_ , of all people, that fucking guy – but he knew that it wasn’t healthy for anyone. And so, he swallowed his pride – his hatred – and pleaded to his father.

“Please, let me go back to the island.” _(“Let me get out of here.”)_

He did feel bad for Clear, and he felt bad for his mother who was uncertain about whether to escape back to the island or not. But there was no way he could take it anymore.

It didn’t matter. He was denied anyway. All his father granted him was a slap across the face and a few choice words of how he should “suck it up”.

That was probably the trigger. His father’s words rang in his head as he trudged to his mother’s room, entering without knocking. Why did he go to her room? To look for comfort? Because he knew exactly what was going to happen within the next few hours, and he _wanted_ it to happen? Years would pass, and he still would never know the answer.

As soon as she saw his defeated figure, she led him to her bed and stroked his hair soothingly. He didn’t know if she knew why he’d gone to talk to his father, but she could at least see that it hadn’t gone well.

“Mom.” His voice sounded strained to her ears. “My back _burns_.”

“Oh, honey. Lie down on your stomach, and I’ll get something for you, okay?” She tried to relax him, gently pushing him down.

“No.” He resisted, still not looking at her – simply staring at the wall across from him with a glare. “My face _burns_ , Mom.”

“Honey, I told you, I’ll help. Just relax…” He stayed tense, unwilling to lie down, and she sighed. But she gave up, and walked to the other side of the room to get something; Koujaku wasn’t paying too much attention to what it was. He was focused on the uchigatana displayed on the wall next to the dresser. His family had many old swords on display throughout their complex; the uchigatana in his mother’s room was small compared to some of the other ones, but all he could think about now was holding it in his hands. Eyes on the blade, he stood.

It happened so quickly. Quietly, too. Either that or his ears just couldn’t hear anything other than the blood rushing in his head. The blade first went in the middle of her torso from behind, between her ribs. She looked like she coughed, and blood came out of her mouth, but Koujaku didn’t hear a sound.

He pulled it out, blood now partially covering his hands, and she stumbled over, holding onto the side of the dresser. She mouthed a word; he couldn’t hear it – ignored it – and grabbed her hair to hold her still. The blade pierced through her throat with precision, and a foul stench rose to Koujaku’s nose. He was sure that if his ears worked, he would be hearing her garbled words and gasping breath – the squelching sound of blood expelling from her mouth and throat. But, nothing. His mind wasn’t working, so how could he hear?

He could still see it though; the way her eyes rolled and her teeth clenched in shock, biting into her tongue until she finally fell limp, letting the sword dig into her jaw from below. The sight didn’t make him feel sick or sad, though; he only felt excitement racing from his head to his fingertips.

Everything turned black, and when he resurfaced, he was completely covered in blood.

When he heard the number of family members that had been killed, he vomited.

 

 

It was a rainy day during the mass funeral, but Clear liked the rain. He just didn’t like getting wet, that’s all; so he brought his vinyl umbrella. Steve soon joined him under it, complaining about the awful weather.

“I mean, I know rain during a funeral isn’t _uncommon_ , but this is just ridiculous! I can barely hear them speak over all this rain…” His friend grumbled, taking out a tissue to rub his nose.

“That’s just a myth I think. And are you just complaining because all this rain has made you sick? You shouldn’t have come, then,” Clear commented cheekily.

“I’m not sick! I just don’t like the rain…”

From out of the corner of his eye, Clear spotted Katsuo. The teen stood in deep thought, looking at the ground. Clear felt bad; since hearing of the deaths, he hadn’t talked to Katsuo or Koujaku. But that was just because he hadn’t seen them…

In fact, Clear felt terrible about everything. For starters, Sen had left to go on a trip for a few months, and he felt so much lonelier because of it. He knew Sen, now that he’d finished school, would start doing other things and seeing new places, but he still didn’t like it. Secondly, by now, the whole school had heard of Koujaku’s “accident” – it was evident that he would not be coming back to any classes. Ever. Not after this. Most of the students had labeled him a monster or psychopath by now.

Clear just couldn’t believe it. Koujaku, one of the kindest, greatest people he knew, killing a bunch of people? His family, even? It wasn’t true. It had to be a lie conjured up by Koujaku’s father – something like that. But looking at Katsuo’s expression, Clear felt more unsure whether it was really a lie or not.

Before he knew it, the ceremony ended, and Clear hesitantly approached Katsuo. Once the other spotted him, a smile grew on his miserable face.

“Clear. How are you?”

“I’m doing okay…” Clear looked to the graves again – there were so many, it still didn’t seem real – then back to Katsuo. “How about you?”

Katsuo sighed, brushing his hair out of his face. “Better than some people, probably… When something like _this_ happens, it’s hard to feel normal, yanno?”

“Yeah… It doesn’t really seem real.”

“It is, though.” Katsuo had a faraway look in his eyes. Clear had seen this look on people’s faces numerous times throughout his life, but he never quite understood what they were feeling. Katsuo went on, though, “All of these people are dead. They all had dreams, and things they were going to do. Most of them probably also loved Koujaku-san. Apart from with his father, Koujaku-san was pretty popular with his family, did you know? They all thought he had a lot of promise… Except for his father.”

Listening to Katsuo, Clear was intrigued. He couldn’t help but ask, “What are you feeling right now?”

Katsuo glanced away from the graves and at him in surprise. “What am I… feeling?”

“Y-Yeah.”

He frowned. “…Confusion. I feel betrayed. I also feel… guilt.”

Clear wasn’t expecting that; he was expecting Katsuo to say “sad” or “angry”. This, he didn’t understand. He yearned to know more. “Please, explain, why do you feel like that?”

Still frowning, Katsuo hesitated but didn’t question Clear’s interest. “Well, I’m confused at why something like this would happen. Why Koujaku-san would… …I feel betrayed because I trusted Koujaku-san to not get too angry. I was confident that he wouldn’t lose control of himself, and that this was just a phase he was going through or something. I’m… guilty because I didn’t do anything more to help Koujaku-san. I’m guilty for feeling so confident in him, for not seeing his weaknesses. I’m guilty… because Koujaku-san’s mom didn’t deserve this… She was so nice, yanno? She was like _everyone’s_ mom, and she would help anyone who needed help… She probably never saw this coming. Or if she did, she didn’t stop it, for whatever reason… I wish we could know what she thought, what she was thinking when she died, what she thought about what was happening to Koujaku-san… But we can never know that.”

Clear stayed completely silent during Katsuo’s explanation. He was enraptured by his words, absorbing every feeling, every thought. At the end of it all, he nodded appreciatively. “Thanks for telling me.”

Katsuo suddenly smiled at him. “You know what? I’m also confused because _you’re_ asking me these weird questions! Haha, you’ve always been weird, though.” Clear’s hair was ruffled, as always, and he pouted in annoyance.

“Okay, okay…” Both of them smiled at each other in silence; the rain slowed to a trickle, finally letting up. Clear opened his mouth again. “Hey, do you think I could see Koujaku-san soon? Will you take me to him again?”

Flinching at his words, Katsuo blinked in surprise. “You… want to see Koujaku-san?”

“Of course I do. You do too, don’t you? You’re friends. _We’re_ friends; he needs us now more than ever, right?”

Eyes lighting up in recognition, Katsuo smiled. “Yeah, right! We can go see him. But I don’t think he’s at his house right now… I’ll ask, and then we can go to wherever he is right now, okay?”

Clear nodded happily. “Okay!” He’d felt terrible at the beginning of the funeral, but he didn’t feel so bad anymore.

 

 

At the abandoned playground, Mizuki and Aoba sat on a bench alone. This very same playground, that Aoba once played and was bullied in, looked mostly run down after so many years. Yet Aoba and Mizuki found themselves there anyway, holding ice cream cones in their hands and watching Kizuna, Mizuki’s AllMate, chase Ren around the sandbox. For a lizard, Kizuna could move awfully fast.

“You gonna eat that or what?” Mizuki questioned from Aoba’s side, gesturing to his slowly melting strawberry ice cream cone. Aoba licked up the dripping parts in haste.

“Yeah, eventually. I was just thinking about stuff.”

“Mm, like what?”

There was a pause as Aoba stared at the AllMates. “Well, I’m a teenager now. I’m not a kid anymore, so why do I want to come back here?”

Mizuki laughed at his confession. “Aoba, you’re still a kid.”

Turning to him with a scowl, Aoba argued, “What? No I’m not, I’m-!”

“Thirteen, yeah. _So?_ I’m older than that, and _I’m_ still a kid. A teenager is still a kid, Aoba.” Aoba huffed at his words, but Mizuki smiled wistfully and continued, “So. Come on, tell me, do you think Sei’s getting better? That’s the whole reason we hung out today, dummy.”

“I don’t know…” Aoba’s eyes lowered, and his voice grew quieter with each word. “He said yesterday that he might surprise you and just come with me today if he was any better, but he wasn’t… He’s only gotten worse, really. He said he didn’t feel like getting out of bed, and he’d fallen back asleep by the time I left this morning.”

Mizuki frowned, his voice laced with regret. “That’s a shame.”

“Yeah. Granny also had to work today, and she left this morning, so…”

“Wait! You mean Sei is alone in your house, sick, right now?”

Aoba almost felt like laughing at Mizuki’s panicking. “Not alone. Usui said that she would watch him. I know she can’t do much, but it’s enough; it’s not like he’s on his d-death bed or anything.” Though it was just a figure of speech, Aoba couldn’t help but stumble on his words whenever he thought of his brother actually… dying. He erased the thought from his mind.

Mizuki didn’t seem to notice. “That’s good. Usui’s pretty capable.” Usui was the name Sei gave to his fairy AllMate; just like Ren and Aoba, the bond between Usui and Sei had been evident from the beginning. So far, though, Usui had proved to be similar to their mother in personality as well as looks – she was kind and caring as ever. Her and Ren had similar traits as well, and grew to be close friends.

“You want Sei to get better, right?” Aoba asked out of the blue, turning towards Mizuki. He didn’t know where the question had come from; for some reason, he just felt the need to ask.

Surprised but confident, Mizuki replied, “Of course I do!”

“Okay...” Aoba didn’t look away from him.

“A-Aoba?”

“Nothing, I just get the feeling like something bad is going to happen.” Once again, the words came out without him thinking about it. But when he heard what he was saying, he realized – yes, he did feel that way. Like a shadow was looming over him. Why?

“Something bad? …Don’t say that, Aoba. You’re scaring me.”

_“ **Scaring** him? What a loser… He hasn’t seen **anything** yet. Just wait, kid.”_

“H-Huh?” Aoba’s head whipped around wildly at the strange voice. It’d sounded like the person was only a few inches away from his ear, but no one was standing behind him or anything.

“…What?” Mizuki, leaning back, eyed him suspiciously. Aoba knew from his face that he thought he was just joking around now – making things up.

“I-I’m serious! Did you hear that?”

“Hear…? Aoba, stop it.” Mizuki now glared at him in irritation. “This isn’t funny. Stop trying to scare me. Especially when it comes to Sei and stuff… I thought you were more compassionate than that.”

“I’m not acting or anything!” Aoba also grew annoyed, glaring back. “I didn’t say _anything_ , but I heard-!”

“Yes you _did_ , you said-!”

“G-Guys!”

Their building anger was interrupted by, surprisingly, Sei, who now leaned over in front of them, panting for breath. Aoba immediately forgot about Mizuki and jumped up, dropping his ice cream to support Sei.

“W-What are you doing here, nii-san? You’re supposed to be resting!” Mizuki had also approached at this point, putting his hand on Sei’s shoulder.

Sei straightened himself and looked at them seriously, though he was still lightly coughing. “That… doesn’t matter! We need to look for Usui! We need to help her!”

“Help her? What happened to her? Where is she?” Mizuki questioned immediately, worried.

“I… Well, someone was at the door, and I couldn’t get out of bed to check… I was tired, and well, U-Usui insisted that she would see who was there… I fell asleep – I don’t know for how long, b-but when I woke up, she wasn’t there, and the door was still open…! Someone might’ve taken her, or something…” Sei explained shakily, coughing and sniffing every so often. Aoba tugged his sleeve in worry, and Sei tugged his back.

Mizuki’s eyebrows furrowed. “Crap… You didn’t see _anyone_ when you woke up?”

“No…”

“Hm…” As Mizuki pondered what to do, Aoba ran over to Ren and Kizuna, who had noticed the commotion.

“Everything okay, Aoba?” Ren inquired as he approached.

“Ren! You’re able to track where Usui is, right?”

“Yes, I am. Do you need me to find her?”

“Yes, please!” Aoba hugged Ren delightedly before turning to Sei and Mizuki in triumph. “See, Ren can find her!”

Sei smiled while Mizuki nodded. “Good. Let’s hurry. Do you have any idea how long you slept, Sei?”

“Not really… I think it was at least an hour, though, so I think we should find her quick…” Sei’s face lowered in shame, but Aoba grabbed his hand insistently, pulling him to follow Ren.

To the boys, it seemed as if Ren was simply trotting around aimlessly. The small AllMate led them in all directions, taking back alleys and stopping dead every few minutes while looking around before choosing a different path. Aoba was almost ready to ask him if he _really_ knew what he was doing, but Ren suddenly changed to a sprint and darted further into a small alley.

“Usui is there!” They heard the dog proclaim, so they ran as fast as they could to where Ren had stopped. At first, Aoba didn’t see anything. But Sei kneeled on the ground where Ren was, his head lowered, and Aoba leaned over to look closer. He gasped and immediately covered his eyes with his hands, but still looked through his fingers.

Usui _was_ there, but she wasn’t the same. Her body was sprawled out on the ground, all twelve of her limbs bent at odd, unnatural angles. Her neck was turned and her eyes were open, but there was no light in them signaling that she was awake. One of her wings was stretched beside her – the other was half-torn and bent grotesquely beneath her. Everything about her looked painful to Aoba; her mouth was even open, as if she was about to scream.

The sight was terrifying, and Aoba started sobbing loudly, kneeling to hold onto Sei, who stayed silent. Ren put his head on Aoba’s lap, and Mizuki eventually walked closer, putting his hand on Sei’s shoulder.

“Sei… Do you want me to call Tae-san for you? Give me your coil.”

Still staring at Usui’s form, Sei slowly unfastened his coil and gave it to Mizuki, who dialed Granny. Aoba reached out for Sei’s hand and took it.

“Nii-san, are you okay? I’m…” Aoba was confused that Sei wasn’t crying at all, while he himself had burst into tears. Sei turned to him, and his face looked cold.

“It’s going to be okay, Aoba…”

“What? …W-Who would do this sort of thing…?”

Sei looked back at Usui, eyes squinted. Aoba didn’t know how Sei could do it; he couldn’t look at Usui for more than a few seconds before turning away.

“Some people are…” Sei never finished his sentence.

“H-Huh…?”

Mizuki interrupted them when he gave Sei back his coil, saying that Granny would be there as soon as she could. They had to leave the ally though, and after some debate, Mizuki ended up carrying Usui.

It was later obvious that Usui couldn’t be fixed; she would never work again. At Granny’s suggestion, Sei and Aoba buried her body in their backyard, Ren watching them. At first, Ren didn’t quite understand that Usui was gone, or how it happened. He noticed, though, that Sei or Aoba didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so he let his confusion go.

Aoba asked Sei a week later if, someday, he would ever want to get a new AllMate. Sei immediately rejected the idea, and a few seconds later, said that Ren being there was enough. Aoba wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but was more than eager to share Ren with his brother now. It was the least he could do.


	5. Chapter 5

“Mink-san! Hey, Mink-san!”

Turning around at the call, Mink crossed his arms casually, unknowingly intimidating the other man. To be honest, he could care less about what the man was going to say. He didn’t even remember his name; most of his members were nameless to him. There were things more important than names.

“I just was going to inform you that Youko and his group returned a few hours ago… They were successful! All physical files mentioning Toue and all traces – they were all erased! I’m pretty sure…”

Mink grunted approvingly. “Good. What important information was brought back here, then?”

“Uh…” The man’s voice turned nervous, and Mink felt his eye twitch. “It was a lost cause, Mink-san… I don’t know the details, but they were either too sloppy to save anything, or there was just nothing worth saving.”

“I see.” With that, Mink turned away and walked off. A part of him expected it; this had been going on for weeks now. Sure, he had only put together this group five months ago, and all the members were young, but they weren’t _that_ inept. There simply wasn’t anything left to find on this puny island. Perhaps he would come back in the future – but until then…

He had talked about this before with one of his more trustworthy members, and now felt the need to discuss again. Thus, within an hour, a map was sprawled out on a desk before him. He studied it intently, not paying much mind to his associate’s suggestions.

“I don’t know, Mink-san. I _still_ think this city here would be-“

Mink cut him off suddenly, pointing to one spot on the map confidently. “Here.”

The other man squinted uncertainly. “Are you still sure, Mink-san? There’s barely anything out there, not many people…”

“Correct. But what _is_ there is important.” Mink turned away, his mind decided. His mind had been decided for years and years, actually – it was about time he started acting on it.

 

 

After his accident, Koujaku obviously wasn’t staying at his home anymore. But Clear still hadn’t expected him to be at the hospital – was he injured? Either that, or he had mental issues and was in the psychiatric ward. Clear didn’t want to dwell on which was more likely, and didn’t pay attention to which part of the hospital they were entering to see him.

At Koujaku’s door, Clear offered that Katsuo go in alone first. Katsuo already decided that they would talk to Koujaku separately, reasoning that with two people cornering him, Koujaku may feel like he was caught in the middle of an inquisition or something.

Clear waited outside of the room nervously for almost thirty minutes – he’d counted in his head, so maybe it wasn’t accurate, but it was still a long time. Every so often a nurse or patient walking in the hallway would smile and greet him. He smiled back politely, but felt uneasy. Would anyone question why he was just sitting on the floor next to a closed door? Or was that not an uncommon sight around here?

When Katsuo walked back out, he looked exhausted, and nodded to Clear. “Go on. I’ll be here when you come out, I’m just going to get a drink. I’ll grab you something, ‘kay?” He rushed down the hall without another word, and Clear took a deep breath while standing up.

He couldn’t just wait around in nervousness forever, so he entered the room. Inside, there was only Koujaku sitting up in the hospital bed. The room was pretty minimalistic, and the blinds were closed. The set-up gave Clear a comforting feeling, for whatever reason.

“Hi…” As Clear approached, he greeted Koujaku softly. Feeling unsure, he stopped at the edge of the bed, but sat down when Koujaku gestured him to sit. Clear studied him, trying to notice a change, but he didn’t actually look that different. Maybe a bit lethargic, but Clear had expected that.

“Uh… Are you going to come back to school?” He asked quietly, afraid to break the silence of the room. The question seemed awkward, but he had to start somewhere, and Koujaku wasn’t saying anything…

“No.” The reply was short and exactly what Clear had expected. His anxiety grew as he realized he’d gotten nowhere.

This silence was killing him. He wanted to ask, “Did you really kill all those people?” – “You aren’t really a monster, right?” – But he wasn’t stupid enough to do that. Clear knew those weren’t the right things to ask, as much as he wanted to… His curiosity seemed insatiable. It wasn’t even because of fear that he wanted to ask; it was just curiosity. And all he was anxious about was what words to say to make the silence seem less stifling and awkward…

Right as Clear was about to go through with his stupid thoughts and just say it, Koujaku said something more. “Hey, Clear.”

“Ah… Yes?”

Clear felt better now that Koujaku was looking at him. To his surprise, he noticed Koujaku now had a scar across his face, and there were more scars on his hands, his neck… Maybe he really had been injured during this.

“What happened to you when your eyes were… fixed? How did you feel?”

“Hm?” Clear blinked, surprised to have a question directed at himself. “Oh… You mean, afterwards? Uh… Well, the first thing I did was look in the mirror, of course! And I felt… really happy! I felt like myself again. I wasn’t scared or embarrassed anymore… So, I’d say it went pretty well!” He smiled as he remembered; it had been a long time ago, but he hadn’t forgotten that moment.

Koujaku wasn’t smiling, though. Clear’s happiness faded a bit when he noticed his frown. The other was obviously not satisfied with his response. “…No, Clear. I meant- _How_ were your eyes fixed? Do you remember? How did you feel when you were getting them fixed?”

Clear suddenly glared, as if he were offended at what Koujaku had asked. “What…? Koujaku-san, _you_ were the one who told me… It’s okay to be different! Just because I don’t do everything like everyone else does… Grandpa said it himself too, that day! I remember. He said that us doing things a bit differently than other people isn’t a bad thing; it just makes me special! That’s all…”

Realizing that he’d lashed out, Clear was instantly afraid that Koujaku was going to react angrily. He didn’t, though; he stayed calm, and his following words had a serious tone. “Clear, listen to me. I know I said that, and I still believe that. It’s perfectly fine to be different. But that kind of excuse just isn’t going to cut it your entire life. I know how much you want to stay on the farm forever, shut up in your little world with only your Grandpa. But soon enough, that isn’t going to be enough for you anymore. Your _Grandpa_ isn’t going to be enough to stop you from realized just wha- _who_ you really are. I mean- _‘Us doing things a bit differently’?_ What the fuck is that supposed to imply?”

Flinching automatically, Clear turned whiter. He had never heard Koujaku swear at him before… And he couldn’t follow what he was talking about – whatever he was trying to make Clear understand. “I-I don’t know…”

At the tense silence that followed, Koujaku sighed and rubbed his face. “…C-Crap, sorry, I don’t know what came over me there. I don’t like getting angry like that. I, uh… Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for you to come here.”

Clear immediately looked at Koujaku in worry. “No! I’m glad I came here. I… I want to hear what you have to say, Koujaku-san.”

“…Thanks, but I don’t have much I want to say…”

“…What were you just trying to tell me? Sorry, I didn’t understand, but I want to…”

Koujaku sighed again, facing him now with a weary smile. “Don’t. I wasn’t in the right mind when I was saying that. Look, you came because you were worried about me, right? Well, I’m healing, so don’t worry.”

“But, Koujaku-san, you…” Clear’s eyes turned sad, and Koujaku’s smile faded.

“I-? Go on. Go ahead and tell me all about what I did.” His words were bitter, and Clear shivered.

“N-No… I didn’t mean that… Koujaku-san, you’re not a monster! All the others at school are saying bad things about you… And yes, I feel sorry for your family, your mom… She was really nice to me. But you’re my friend! I know you. And whatever it was that did those things – that _couldn’t_ have been you! So…” Clear wavered as Koujaku looked on in mild surprise. “…Well, that’s all I really wanted to say… I mean, I hope you’re still my friend, Koujaku-san. Because you’re the only person who has ever cared about me so much…”

After Clear’s confession, the room turned silent again, and he started to feel awkward. Eventually, though, Koujaku answered him quietly with a tired smile.

“Clear, you’re naïve, but you’re a very nice person.”

“Uh-?” Clear turned pink at the unexpected compliment. “No, not really I’m not…”

“Yes you are. Of course I’m your friend.” It was at this moment that Clear expected his hair to be ruffled, but that never happened. Koujaku continued talking instead.

“And promise that you’ll remember what I’m about to say, okay? You’re free; believe it or not, but your Grandpa can’t tie you down, and that farm can’t tie you down. You can do anything that you want to do with your life. One day, when you understand who you are and when you feel the need to leave – you can just go. You have the power to do that. Understand me?”

Clear understood, but he felt uneasy. “…Why are you saying this to me?”

“Just tell me that you’ll remember.” Koujaku wasn’t concerned, still wearing a smile, but Clear just grew more tense.

“…You’re scaring me. You say that type of thing and it makes me feel like you’re going to leave, Koujaku-san…”

“Clear…” Koujaku’s smile was gone, and Clear knew this was no time for his worries.

“…I’ll remember.”

 

 

Ever since Usui had died, life had only gotten worse for Aoba and Sei. Only a few months had passed after the incident when Sei started to reach a new tier of unhealthiness. The list of sicknesses he was ailed with grew and grew alarmingly within the span of a few more months, and Granny couldn’t keep up with it. Aoba soon became used to Sei not coming with him to school, and all of Sei’s teachers were used to giving his work to Aoba so he could learn the material at home. Aoba accepted his new responsibilities without complaint, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Mizuki often took over the role of walking with Aoba to and from school, but it wasn’t the same. Ren came with him sometimes too, of course, but AllMates weren’t exactly allowed in school, and Aoba usually insisted that Ren stay home to be with Sei anyway. His worry for his brother ate away at him, and every time Sei still insisted on doing something for him like he used to, fear would snap at him like a hungry beast.

_“Aoba, let me carry that for you.” – “Stand back, Aoba. I know how to do this.” – “You don’t think I can’t handle this, do you? I’m still your big brother, Aoba. Trust me, I’m okay.”_

He would yell at Sei to stop straining himself, but it never seemed to work.

Sei also seemed to ignore the fact that anything was wrong, which just frustrated Aoba even more. The older twin obviously took longer to wake up now, but still greeted Aoba with the same “good morning” that he always did, and still tried to make breakfast for the both of them as he always used to. That is, if he could even get up that morning. If not, Aoba would get them something to eat, but it was usually just cereal. To be honest, Aoba didn’t like being in charge; however, he felt even worse when Sei was pushing himself like this, so he was more than content with being the leader now.

The deepest part of him still hated the situation with a burning passion, though. Life in school without Sei was boring and mundane. He hated all of the other kids even more because _none of them were his brother_. When he said it in his head like that, it seemed childish, but it was the truth. He didn’t like looking at anyone’s face, or talking to anyone. All he wanted was to get back home as quickly as he could.

He walked down the sidewalk in a rush one day after school, as eager as ever to see how his brother was doing. When Mizuki or Ren wasn’t with him, this is how he always was now – hasty and not willing to talk to anyone. No one else really mattered.

Someone grabbed his jacket from behind, making him grunt and spin around angrily. Three boys seemed to have followed him, and were grinning at him cheekily. Aoba already hated them.

“Oi, Aoba, right? What are you in such a hurry for-? Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you!” The boy who had caught him reached out and grabbed him again when he tried to turn away. These guys were just wasting his time; he had much more important things to do!

“Let me go.” Aoba mumbled hurriedly and quietly, still not keen to talking with strangers. The boys didn’t let him go, though – not that Aoba actually thought that they would.

“Hmm, what was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” The annoying boy sneered and yanked on a lock of his hair. Aoba yelped loudly in pain, and the boys grinned wider.

“Oh? So you’re that weird kid with the hair that has _feeling_? Figures, you never talk to anyone; I _knew_ you were probably a freak.” Another one of the assailants commented mockingly, and reached out for his hair as well. Aoba managed to pull away just in time, and his arm was freed from their hold. The boys were still laughing at him, though, and Aoba felt his face burning.

It was never fair… He was just sick of it. Sick of bullies, sick of being alone, sick of Sei being sick… He turned around resolutely as his mouth opened.

“J-Just…” At first it was a whisper, and he knew he wouldn’t be heard by the boys; they were still laughing. So, he turned back towards them and walked closer. They quieted their laughter in surprise.

“Just _leave me the **fuck** alone already! _ You make me _sick_! _Fuck you!”_ Aoba’s arm raised, and his fist made contact with the first boy’s face at an unexpected speed. The sound it made was crunching and disgusting to Aoba’s ears.

The other two boys hesitated in shock, as Aoba was relatively known to be a quiet boy who would never have the guts to swear or punch anyone. Aoba, realizing what he’d done, took advantage of their surprise and immediately ran off in the opposite direction. Sure enough, the boys began to chase after him, but they were urged to stop by the first boy, who had kneeled on the ground holding his face.

Aoba ran home as fast as he could. He didn’t exactly understand what had happened, but all he wanted was to go and see Sei. Sei would make him feel better, surely.

Unbeknownst to Aoba, as he entered his house in a panic, two men seemed to be fervently discussing him a few blocks away while sitting in a small restaurant. Neither of them seemed to be eating much, though.

“Look, I’m just saying that you probably made a bad move with destroying that little fairy thing. Ever since you did that, things have just gone downhill, didn’t they? Tch, I told you so…” The younger of the two berated, taking a sip of his drink.

The other man grew defensive and raised his hands in exasperation. “I _know_ it was a bad move, but what else was I supposed to do? That thing was onto me, and I didn’t have any other choice!”

“You could’ve just maybe _not tried to enter their house_ , dumbass…”

“Hey, I _thought_ there was no one home!”

“Well, obviously there was someone home. Goddammit, you _knew_ that puny thing wasn’t exactly _just_ an AllMate anymore, too! It could’ve been useful to us! Couldn’t you’ve captured it or something?”

“At the time, actually, I _didn’t_ know that. Don’t blame me just because no one tells me anything, man!”

The older person was obviously getting more and more irritated, but the younger simply continued calmly, “Just saying, you see how bad things have gotten. Plus that kid is just getting sicker, so we need to make a move soon. Seeing how badly _you’re_ controlling the situation, you should really just have someone else do the job, you know…”

“Shut _up_ , Sen! You’ve barely been down here for two weeks – you don’t know _shit_ , so stop acting like you do! Besides, I see you’re having more than enough trouble controlling your _own_ situation. You and your fuckin’ insane dad…”

Sen’s eyes shot up in anger and he set his drink down. “Don’t talk about my father. Only I get to call him crazy, asshole. And I _have_ things under control.”

“Not what I’ve heard.”

“What? …You probably heard about that kid who got tattooed, then. That may have been around the area I live, but it wasn’t _my_ problem. Talk to Ryuuhou if you want to complain.”

“Ryuuhou…?” The older man seemed confused, before shuddering in recognition. “Oh, _that_ creepy dude? No thanks, man. I’m surprised he’s still around… Whatever, sorry, I wasn’t even talking about the tattooed kid, I was talking about your father. Toue-san has been saying stuff-“

“I don’t want to hear what he has to say about it.” Sen cut him off immediately, taking another sip of his drink.

“…You got balls, kid.”

“I’m just confident in my abilities. Look, do you want to get replaced or not?”

The man paused in consideration, before eventually sighing and rubbing his head. “I guess I’ll let it happen. I know I’ve fucked up too much anyway… But you’re not going to be the one replacing me, right?”

“Of course not. Honestly, I sort of hate this place already. Too noisy… And I have my _own situation_ to deal with at home, as you so kindly put it.”

 

 

After he was released from the hospital, Koujaku felt lost. It was obvious he couldn’t return home now; even _if_ he wanted to, his father would turn him away. Lucky for him, he didn’t have that many important belongings back at the complex, so he was ready to leave everything behind. The only possession he really cared about was Beni, and the bird was kept with him at all times anyway, so he didn’t have anything tying him down.

He realized his newfound freedom, but he didn’t enjoy it. Because the thing that was tying him down before was… his mother. Once he understood that, he felt sick to his stomach. Everything had happened too quickly; sure, now his father wouldn’t be able to stop him from going back to the island, but he’d always envisioned his mother going back with him. She wasn’t there, and he felt as if he misled himself. Going back wasn’t something he felt like doing anymore – at least, not with things the way they were. Why did he do that- _Why?_

The answers wouldn’t come to him, so he tried all he could to forget. Maybe it was a stupid decision on his part, but the first thing he did after he got out of the hospital was pick as many fights as he possibly could. Counterproductive, sure, but he had nothing else to lose at this point. He’d been a great student, a prefect at his school for _years_ , most of his family members thought he was turning out to be a prodigy, and now… Koujaku had sunk from the top to the very bottom, and all he could do was give in to his anger.

After a bloody week of scarring himself in the streets, Koujaku’s coil rang for the first time in what seemed like forever. It was Katsuo. A part of him expected it to be Clear, but he shrugged it off and answered reluctantly.

“Koujaku-san… Where are you?” The voice seemed so relieved; it made Koujaku feel a little guilty for not telling anyone of his whereabouts, but he didn’t want to drag them into this.

“…I’ve been around. I’m still in the city.”

“Okay… Clear has been worried, yanno? I’ll tell him you’re at least okay.”

“…Tell him I’m sorry too, then.”

“Koujaku-san, I can’t let you live like this, okay? I know you’re probably going back to your island soon. Let me come with you.”

“No. We’ve already talked about this…” They had, when Katsuo saw Koujaku in the hospital. He’d insisted to come with Koujaku when he left, but Koujaku blatantly refused, saying Katsuo should at least wait a few months so he could graduate.

“Yeah, we _have_ , and graduation isn’t far away at all! It’ll probably be over before you leave, so it’ll be in time for me to go with you! You _know_ how, all through schooling, I’ve had no idea what I want to do with my life. All I’m good at is fighting… So, I figured this is the best idea – for me to go with you to your island! I’m sure there will be something for me there, and I’ll get to meet those old friends of yours you always talked about! Deal?”

Koujaku sighed into the phone, leaning against a building. It was starting to get pretty dark out, and he didn’t want to stay outside for long. “…I don’t think I’m going back to the island that soon.”

“What?”

“I still have some stuff to do here… Look, if you’re up for it, meet me at that one bar where we had our first drinks. We can talk there.”

“Oh, that place? Man, that was so long ago, I sort of forgot…” There was some tapping noises on Katsuo’s end, and Koujaku sighed wearily again before Katsuo gasped. “Really? That’s _so far away_ , Koujaku-san! …I’ll be right there, though! Don’t get started without me!” The call cut off, and Koujaku hurriedly walked to the aforementioned bar, only a few blocks away.

It was a pretty derelict place, with not much security, so the bartenders usually never asked for identification. Thus, of course, the place was filled with teenagers. It was risky, but no one seemed to notice Koujaku come in. Within a few hours, Katsuo also came rushing in. It had started to rain, so the boy was soaking wet, but a smile was still on his face.

They talked about many things Koujaku didn’t feel like talking about, but he let it pass. Maybe it was about time he started getting out of his blood-laced comfort zone, anyway. When Katsuo asked the question of why he wasn’t going straight back to the island, however, Koujaku felt more ill than usual.

“Things… didn’t go as planned. Obviously. I have some loose ends to tie up here.”

“Loose ends? Like what?”

“… _Ryuuhou_.” Koujaku whispered the name as if it was acid on his tongue, clenching his fists in fury.

“Hmm? Who’s that?”

“The bastard who did that to me.” Koujaku fiddled with his bangs as he said it – they were growing out at a fast pace, and now almost fully covered his tattooed eye. Katsuo noticed the gesture and nodded in understanding.

“I see. What are you going to do to him?”

“…Whatever I feel like doing when the time comes.”

“…Fine. You do _whatever_ to that guy, but Koujaku-san, when that’s all said and done, don’t think you’re still going to leave me behind! I’ll keep on contacting you to make sure you remember.”

Katsuo’s tenacity renewed something in Koujaku, and he lowered his head resolutely, a small smile on his face. “Have it your way.”

When Katsuo departed for the night, Koujaku once again had to go through the process of finding a place to stay. Usually he could manage to get in a motel for a night, but he was running low on money, so he’d prefer an alternative at this point.

After wandering around for another hour, he reluctantly opted to sleep in an empty bus shelter; at least there he could be protected from the rain. He checked to see that Beni, still in sleep mode, was in a place where he couldn’t be easily stolen, and then closed his eyes for a rest.

…

…

“Hey, kid, wake up.”

Hearing a man’s voice suddenly, Koujaku awoke with a start, shaking his head a few times. It was dawn – early in the morning, so other than the voice next to him, Koujaku only heard silence.

“Huh?” He turned, seeing another man sitting on the bench next to him. The stranger had red hair, unusually pale skin, weird-looking eyes, and a coat with a bunch of bizarre-looking buttons all over it. Koujaku eyed him wearily.

“Kid, you look awful. Want some?” With a toothy grin and a casual tone, the man pulled out a few candy bars from inside his coat and held them out. Although Koujaku was suspicious of the food-choice and the man’s willingness, he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t eaten in a long while. So, he took them both.

“…I’m not a kid. What’s with the free food?” Koujaku mumbled skeptically, still half-asleep.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I eat those all the time, so I have more than enough. You looked hungry, that’s all.” The man’s unrelenting staring was getting on Koujaku’s nerves, but he simply grunted in response and tore into one of the candy bars. Honestly, he didn’t like it – too chewy – but he was too hungry, so he didn’t care.

The stranger continued watching him, eventually asking, “What’s your name?”

Koujaku paused his chewing and looked up, perplexed. Don’t tell him – this was one of those guys who liked to pick up homeless kids off the street and put them in terrible foster homes? Well, Koujaku was eighteen and not necessarily foster home material anymore, so he figured he would answer anyway. “Koujaku.”

“Hello, Koujaku. I see you’ve been in some trouble.” The man reached out his pale fingers and barely grazed the bridge of Koujaku’s nose – right where the scar from _that day_ was displayed. Koujaku flinched back, glaring defensively.

“Why do you care?”

“Oh, I care. As soon as I saw you, I thought, _this boy sure reminds me of myself_.” The man seemed to muse while now eyeing the tattoo almost completely covered by Koujaku’s bangs – but not quite covered yet. Koujaku fiddled with his hair to hide his skin more, his scowl intensifying.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I just thought I should give you some advice. You seem pretty strong, but you look run-down at the moment. Take my opinion…” As the man spoke, he took out another candy bar and unwrapped it, biting in with sharp teeth that Koujaku observed with curiosity. “…Opportunities for revenge come few and far between; when you find one, don’t waste it. Although, you shouldn’t spend your entire life waiting for a chance, either.”

Koujaku’s eyes widened at his words. “Revenge…? You… You know Ryuuhou, don’t you?” It couldn’t be a coincidence – this complete stranger talking to him about what he was just thinking of yesterday. He reached across to grab the man’s collar in fury, but the man leaned away skillfully with a smile.

“You- _Tell me where Ryuuhou is!_ ”

“Ryuu… hou? Hmm…” The man tilted his head, concentrating. “I… don’t think I actually know a Ryuuhou. Funny. But this man seems to be pretty smart to have such a hold on you, don’t you think?”

“Hold on me…?” Koujaku stopped his desperate motions, confused. “…How do you know so much about me? Who are you?”

The man ignored him and continued, “You’re making a mistake here. See, this is exactly what he wants you to do. This heat and anger you carry, when the time for revenge comes, is just going to drive you completely insane. You have to resist; be cold, calculating, smart and sentient… Surprise him with how much he has failed to make you into something _inhuman_.”

Koujaku said nothing, still taking in the stranger’s advice as he stood up, throwing the candy wrapper in the nearby trash can. “Koujaku, I hope my being here has helped you. I must be going now, though. Places to see.”

“Wait!” He reached out to stop the man, glaring. “Wh… At least tell me your name or something! Why did you come and talk to me like this? How did you know so much?”

“Hm? Well, I saw your face of course. Your tattoos are quite distinct. I was positive I’ve seen that design somewhere… Where was it…? Well, maybe not. Goodbye, Koujaku.” The man turned and walked away with a deceitful smile; Koujaku knew he was withholding information from him.

He was almost about to follow the man, but stopped himself. What if that person was just crazy and actually had nothing to do with Ryuuhou at all? It would be a complete waste of time. Still… There was always that chance that he was _working_ with Ryuuhou instead. By the time Koujaku made his mind up to follow him anyway, the man was long gone, and Koujaku was left with a feeling that their short meeting would also be their only meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who else is super hyped for the dmmd anime, because I so am.
> 
> Also Mink is literally the hardest character for me to write, like if anyone can help me or give me tips concerning his characterization that would be super awesome.
> 
> I'm also really glad people are liking this, you don't know how happy I am. Thanks for any support that you guys give me!


	6. Chapter 6

“Grandpa, can I please take a break~?” Clear called out into the field, fanning himself with his straw hat. As much as he loved shearing day, he’d been tending to the alpacas for hours, and the heat was just now starting to bother him.

“Of course, Clear!” His grandfather yelled back, and Clear smiled, hurrying to the house. The first thing he did was drink a tall glass of water, and then he sat at the dining table with a relieved but weary sigh.

At first, life without Koujaku was difficult for him. Katsuo had told Clear that he was alive, but that wasn’t much comfort. Clear had eventually tried to call Koujaku and talk to him, but he never answered. Honestly, with both of the older boys now adults and out of school, Clear felt left behind. He didn’t doubt that they were still his friends, but he wasn’t so optimistic to think that they would see each other just like they used to.

So, to distract himself from his loneliness during the summer, Clear started a new hobby. He remembered how avidly Sen had played video games in his downtime; Clear watched him from time to time, and it looked fun, but whenever he asked Sen to let him play the other always shot him down. With Sen momentarily gone, though, Clear could raid his video game collection and try to play some. Maybe when Sen came back, Clear could even impress him with his new skills!

However, Clear soon realized that console video games just weren’t for him. He didn’t have nearly as much fun playing them as he thought he would – to be frank, he sucked. But that ended up not mattering when he found an alternative – computer games. Clear wasn’t sure why, but he found that he was much better at online gaming, and enjoyed it more. Not to mention that he’d managed to make a few friends from the internet; they were all much better than him at playing, but Clear was just glad that he had more companions. They made him feel less lonely.

In fact, his closest internet friend was texting his coil at the very moment.

 

[ **Today** 11:48 AM]

**bn_head:** dude

**bn_head:** do you know how to remove blood from clothes

 

Clear sighed; he was sort of used to his new friend’s odd questions by now. He’d also learned that the boy was from Germany, which explained his grammatical errors every now and then. Clear had thought it was really interesting to meet someone from another country, and was eager to be friends with him. They were now pretty close, Clear assumed, though the other boy always talked about weird things… Clear figured, since he was so weird himself, it made sense that he’d attract even weirder people. He saw it as a good thing, though, and still smiled as he responded.

 

**fuwafuwa11:** uh

**fuwafuwa11:** no i dont know sorry!

**fuwafuwa11:** why are you asking me this O_O

**bn_head:** not telling you

**fuwafuwa11:** ok ok i get it >_<

**fuwafuwa11:** but anyway guess what

**bn_head:** what

**fuwafuwa11:** remember when i was telling you about mable? she gave birth yesterday!!! :D

**bn_head:** who is mable

**fuwafuwa11:** >:(

**bn_head:** o ya your sheeps

**fuwafuwa11:** theyre alpacas silly!

**bn_head:** whatever

**fuwafuwa11:** >_< come onnnn it was really cool! youd really like them

**fuwafuwa11:** i know u like fluffy things >:)

**bn_head:** i need to go. bye

**fuwafuwa11:** ok bye :( ill talk to u later

 

Clear sighed at his friend’s abrupt farewell and put his coil down. The other boy always did this; he’d have to suddenly go offline in the middle of a game, or stop their conversation randomly. Though it upset Clear, he understood that it must always be because of important reasons…

Feeling ready for work again, he stood up and made his way back outside. As laidback as he and Grandpa wanted to be, they couldn’t slack off. Sen was coming back home tomorrow, after all, and they didn’t want him to come back just to do more farm work.

Clear was excited to see Sen again. Yes, he missed him, but he was also hoping to ask him some questions. Ever since his last conversation with Koujaku, he couldn’t get this nagging feeling out of his head – a feeling that something was wrong. He also felt like he couldn’t talk to Grandpa about it, though, and that left Sen as the only person he could spill his worries to – not that Sen would want to listen, probably.

 

 

In a white room miles away, two boys were discussing something. Well, this wasn’t completely accurate; more like one was talking and the other was listening.

“I told you he would grant our wishes. Look what we have now.” The speaker dropped a large file into the listener’s hands. He stared at it for a few seconds, before finally speaking.

“So, we can get out with this?”

“We will still have obligations, mind you. But yes, we will be able to leave here more frequently. I told you this would be interesting.”

“You didn’t have to tell me. I knew.” The younger dropped the file without bothering to actually read it, stretching and turning around. “I need to re-dye my hair before we leave, though.”

“Of course. We leave to pick up our charge at dawn tomorrow.”

Trip had already left the room though, and probably hadn’t heard him. Virus sighed in resignation and picked up the file, picking through it once more.

“Seragaki Sei… I can’t wait to meet you.”

 

 

“Hey, Aoba. Do you think we were also twins in a past life?”

Aoba looked at his brother from the desk, still chewing on the tip of his pencil slightly. He was doing his homework in their room as usual, Sei resting in the bed beside his desk. At this point, Granny had mostly confined Sei to bed rest, even though Sei insisted that he felt fine enough to go outside sometimes. When Granny was away, Sei would still walk around the house anyway, but Aoba asked him not to go outside. He was worried; Sei was extremely sick. Probably the sickest he’d ever been.

“Hm? Why, do you believe in past lives?”

Sei smiled. “I don’t know if I do, but I just think that we must’ve been twins some other time. I can’t imagine not being your brother.”

Usually, when Aoba didn’t understand what Sei was saying, he passed it off as delirious blabber caused by sickness. This time, however, Aoba was inclined to take Sei more seriously.

“…Me too. I think we were probably twins.”

“Good…”

The silence that followed confused Aoba. “What’s with the weird question all of a sudden?”

“It’s nothing. Hey, can we go make dinner now? I’ll make sure you don’t burn anything.” Sei was already getting out of bed as he said it, wincing at the creaking of his limbs. Aoba groaned in annoyance.

“I haven’t finished this problem yet though! I need to find the vertical asymptote-“

“Math isn’t important when it comes to real life, Aoba. Come with me.” Sei tugged on Aoba’s hair slightly – he knew how to touch without hurting – and Aoba sighed in reluctance, getting up from his chair.

It had been raining a lot this month, and Aoba watched out the window from the sink. The first few drops of rain for the day were just falling down, and it gave Aoba a refreshing feeling looking at them. As he waited for Sei’s tea to finish steeping – his favorite, red milk tea – Aoba spaced out. He was only brought back to his senses by Ren frantically tugging on his jeans.

“Aoba! Aoba! Sei has left!”

“What?” Aoba turned around in a panic. Sei was no longer sitting at the table; Ren was right. When had he left? Aoba hadn’t heard him at all…

Feeling guilty that he hadn’t been paying attention, Aoba quickly grabbed his coat and rushed out into the rain. According to Ren, Sei was outside, and he couldn’t be that far. Within a few seconds of running, he managed to spot his brother in the distance. Sei wasn’t wearing a jacket, and Aoba let out a choking sound of distress.

“Sei!” He called out into the distance, running faster to reach him. Sei wasn’t walking too fast, so Aoba caught him quickly and turned him around. He looked at Aoba in confusion, as if he didn’t understand why he’d come running after him.

“Aoba…?”

“What are you doing out here? It’s raining! You’re sick… Come on, we have to go back home!” Aoba tugged on Sei, but Sei resisted with surprising strength.

“…I thought I saw Usui.”

“Saw Usui? Out here?” Aoba blinked in confusion. Was Sei just becoming delirious? His worry for his brother’s condition grew.

“Yes…” Sei looked at him sorrowfully and took his hand, Aoba blinking in confusion. “Aoba, do you think I’m sick?”

“…Do I think…? Of _course_ you’re sick, Sei!” Aoba, apprehensive, raised his voice. “Do you not remember the last few months? The last few _years_? You’re really sick, Sei!”

“No… I’m not talking about that…” Sei sounded disappointed, and his voice was so quiet Aoba strained to hear him. “Because… Aoba, do you realize what you’ve been doing? When we’re sleeping, we share dreams… But you never remember them when you wake up. And in the dream, you act differently. It’s almost as if I’m talking to someone else who is you, but isn’t _you_. Do you understand me?”

“What…?” Aoba vaguely remembered that when they were younger, they both used to think they could speak to each other telepathically. He even remembered having dreams where Sei was with him, talking to him… And Sei always said he had the same dreams as well. But it was so long ago when that was happening, Aoba couldn’t tell whether it was real or just a fantasy of his – something he’d made up in his head.

“Are you talking about when we would speak to each other in our minds or something? Do you still do that?”

Sei was frowning now. “Yes, but you never answer me. Well, I mean, _you_ answer me, but it’s a different you. It worries me. Aoba, maybe you’re the one that’s really sick.”

“Sick? I don’t understand you…” Aoba shook his head to clear it, and tried to pull Sei closer. “Look, it’s starting to rain a lot now. We should go back to the house and talk about it there. Your tea is probably ready now… I thought we were going to eat together? _Please_ , Sei!” Aoba continuously tugged on his brother’s hand, but Sei stayed put. Tears budded in Aoba’s eyes as his hysteria grew; he never liked when his brother looked at him so seriously. It was scary.

But though his eyes were cold, Sei’s voice was soft as ever. “Aoba… No, I’m sorry, I can’t do that. Don’t you want to know where we come from?”

“Where we come from…?”

“I’m going to find out. I’m already so close… It’s a shame you can’t remember what the other you has told me. But don’t worry. It’s just time now. I think I’ll have to leave…”

“L-Leave?” The tears now fell down Aoba’s face, and he grabbed onto Sei desperately. “Sei, what? You can’t leave me! No!” He knew he sounded like a brat, but he didn’t care.

Sei smiled apologetically. “Aoba, you’re going to be okay. You’re protected by so many things, and there are so many people that love you. I love you. You’ll always be my brother. You know I’m not going to be gone forever. I promise…”

“Don’t say those things! You’re delusional, Sei! Just come back home! Sei!” Aoba screamed, but Sei only gave him a more pitying look.

“Aoba…” He paused, suddenly looking behind Aoba at something. Then he gently grabbed Aoba’s forearms and pried his body off of him. Aoba was too scared and miserable to resist.

Sei looked at him and smiled again.

Instantaneously, something heavy hit the back of his head. His vision went dark, and he lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

 

 

“Everyone leaves me… Dad and Mom, Koujaku, now Sei… I have no one left… Everyone I loved the most, they’re all… They’re gone…”

His shaky words were interrupted by another voice that he’d heard before.

_“Everyone? Really? Ouch, that hurts.”_

“Huh…?” He looked around in confusion – as if he could see anything anyway.

_“I say **I’m** the one who gave you more support than any of those fools, but do I get any recognition? Nope. Looks my hard work was all for nothing. **His** hard work too. Man, if he could hear what you were saying right now, he would just want to die.”_

“Who… are you? Are you the person Sei was talking about?”

_“What, you mean **you**? Yeah. I’m you.”_

“…You talked to Sei in his dreams?”

_“Yeah. And I talked to you as well when we were younger, but I guess you thought I was our brother. I see how it is.”_

“That was you?”

_“Duh. Well, not all of the time… But sometimes.”_

“So I never talked to Sei in my dreams or…”

_“ **You** don’t have that power. That’s mine, thank you very much. Don’t take away the only thing that makes me special here.”_

“…I want Sei.”

_“I can get him for you, if you let me.”_

“…You can?”

_“Yeah. Just leave everything to me.”_

“…Okay.”

 

 

Mizuki sighed as he waited outside of the Seragaki household early in the morning. It was the start of the new school year, and he planned on walking Aoba to school every single day he could. Tae-san had actually asked him to; he agreed without a thought, knowing how worried she was about him. Mizuki was rather concerned as well.

It hadn’t even been a month since Sei disappeared, after all. Tae-san had come home from work that day to find no one in the house at all. Well, at first that’s what she thought, but when she entered the twins’ room she found Aoba sleeping peacefully in the bed with Ren curled against him in sleep mode. She woke him frantically, asking where Sei was, and Aoba could barely get a word out without bursting into tears.

A few hours later, they came to the conclusion that Sei either ran away or was kidnapped. The kidnapping was more likely, since that would explain why Aoba ended up tucked into his bed somehow. Tae-san contacted as many people as she could and tried as many ways possible to find where Sei could be – to track him down, find out who had taken him… But there was no one else around when Sei and Aoba had been outside, so Aoba was the only possible witness, and he hadn’t seen who had hit him. Aoba did remember, however, hearing Sei say something about seeing Usui, so they tried to get Ren to track the broken AllMate down. He couldn’t sense her at all, though – just like it had always been since she was found lifeless. Her grave hadn’t been disturbed either, so they let the matter go.

Tae-san soon realized how impossible it would be to actually find Sei, and she was heartbroken, but she didn’t want Aoba to feel hopeless. She soon found it didn’t matter, though; Aoba was already despairing and caught in turmoil. Daily, he made self-deprecating comments about how it was all his fault Sei had gone, and although Tae-san immediately reprimanded him for thinking that way, Aoba’s feelings didn’t change. He became more withdrawn and moody than ever before, saying depressing things just to get a rise out of his grandmother, and glaring at anyone who looked at him. Tae-san grew more and more worried for him as the weeks drew on, and tried to talk to him about it, but he always locked himself up in his room.

She expressed her concerns to Mizuki – who was probably Aoba’s only friend at this point – and mentioned that she thought he should see a therapist, but he didn’t give any input. All he wanted was to help Aoba feel better any way he could – Tae-san trusted him to do that, now. Although, Mizuki himself started feeling rather depressed since Sei had disappeared.

Finally, after almost ten minutes of waiting, Aoba appeared from the front door with a backpack and a scowl on his face. Ren saw them off with his ears drooped, and they started walking, Mizuki looking nervously toward Aoba every now and then. They hadn’t really talked since Sei’s disappearance, but Mizuki knew Tae-san was counting on him to get into Aoba’s head somehow, so he had to try his best.

“So… Aoba… How is… Ren? Is he taking things well?” Mizuki eventually opted to ask about someone other than Aoba at first – jumping straight into Aoba’s own feelings might be too pushy, and he wanted to test the waters. Aoba glanced to him with an eyebrow raised.

“He’s fine. The only thing he’s having a hard time with is me.”

“You? …Why?”

“He doesn’t like how I’ve become. I don’t care though.”

Needless to say, Mizuki was surprised at Aoba’s blunt indifference. “…I thought you really cared for Ren, Aoba.”

“Ren can handle himself. He doesn’t need me to baby him, Mizuki.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Aoba had started to sound annoyed, so Mizuki quickly let the conversation go. Can’t get too risky, now…

After a few more moments of silence, he decided to initiate again. Maybe talking about Sei would produce better results… Even if Mizuki’s throat clenched whenever he remembered the boy. “Aoba, I want to know. How was Sei on the day that he left? Was he acting strange? I just want to know…”

“I’ve been over this with people before. Yes, he was acting strange.” Aoba’s voice was unusually void of emotion, and Mizuki frowned.

“I’m just… I miss him, I guess. Your brother was a really nice person when you actually got to know him, you know? Well, of course you know… You probably miss him a lot too. I’m sorry… It’s just weird that he’s gone… I’d been worried about him for a long time, with how sick he was getting, and I just wanted to care for him. I feel like I could’ve done something more… Then again, you feel like that too, I bet…” Mizuki’s sadness grew as he went on, but Aoba cut him off with a raised hand soon enough.

“I get it Mizuki. You have a huge childish crush on my brother, whatever. But don’t talk to me like you actually know him.”

A red blush appeared on Mizuki’s face; he was clearly taken aback. “What? I _did_ know him. I was his friend! You know that… And what’s with saying I have a crush on him?”

“Dude, it’s obvious. You were way touchy-feely with him.” Aoba was now looking off to the side, a glare still on his face. “You practically looked at him like he was a god or something…”

“O-Okay, okay, I get it… But it’s not like you didn’t have your own childish crush on Koujaku or anything, Aoba! Remember-“

Aoba turned back to him fiercely. “ _Don’t_ talk to me about him!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Mizuki smiled apologetically and held Aoba’s shoulder with his hand, trying to appease him.

The other simply frowned sadly at him, and silence stretched on for a few minutes. Then, “…I don’t feel like going to school. I’m skipping.” Aoba walked away to the nearby bench resolutely and sat, putting his backpack on the ground. Mizuki knew there was no point in trying to get him to change his mind, so he watched him for a few seconds before sighing, coming to sit down next to him. Surprisingly, Aoba let him.

“I don’t blame you, I guess… I know this is tough. I’m here if you need someone to talk to, okay?” Mizuki looked to him hopefully for a few seconds, and eventually Aoba looked back with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, but it must be hard for you too. After all, you _liked_ Sei so much.”

Mizuki frowned and got embarrassed again, but still managed to look at Aoba. “Okay, I get it. Can you stop bringing that up?”

“Whatever.” Aoba looked away decisively, and Mizuki felt nervous. There was actually something he’d wanted to ask, and since Aoba seemed eager to talk about _that_ …

“…Actually…” Aoba looked back at Mizuki once he spoke, eyes narrowed. “There was something… Well, did Sei ever talk about me? Do you think he ever… you know, liked me back? It would make me really happy to know he actually reciprocated… Of course, it’s just wishful thinking, but…” Mizuki laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. Maybe it was wrong of him to ask that; Aoba was squinting at him now. His scowl soon changed into a sneer, though.

“Oh… You want me to tell you if Sei liked you back?”

“Well, yeah…” Aoba’s malicious grin made Mizuki feel uneasy, and his following words disheartened him even more.

“Mizuki, _Sei never liked anyone except for me.”_

“W-What?”

Aoba stopped smiling, now baring his teeth at him as he spat out his words. “Sei is _my_ brother, Mizuki. We only care about _each other_. He only loves _me_ , _no one else!_ Definitely not some stupid boys who _forced_ themselves into our lives.”

Mizuki frowned and glared back, although he felt more confusion than anything else at Aoba’s revelation. “Aoba, what are you saying? Those are just childish lies, and you know it. How would Koujaku feel to hear you say that? He was important to you, Aoba; I know. That’s just disrespecting him, and disrespecting _Sei_ by trying to speak for him!”

“ _D-Disrespecting?_ Stop talking as if Sei is _dead!”_ Aoba screamed at him in anger, standing up. Mizuki felt cornered, but honestly pitied Aoba. Right now, all Aoba resembled was a kid throwing a temper tantrum, and the scene pulled at Mizuki’s heart.

“Sei _hates_ romance, idiot! He was probably _disgusted_ whenever you tried to hold his hand – you could practically see it on his face! _He didn’t like you, Mizuki!_ We only liked each other. There was _no room for anyone else! Get over it!_ ”

Aoba ran away as soon as he screamed out his last sentence, leaving his backpack behind. Mizuki was blown away by his declarations; he felt as if a truck had just slammed into him without warning. All he could think was that he’d failed. He’d let Tae-san down. The realization depressed him, but thinking about his failure was at least better than thinking about whether what Aoba said was the truth or not. He didn’t even want to entertain that thought.

 

 

Sei didn’t mind not being able to wake up for a while. Honestly, he felt tired most of the time nowadays, so it was nice to not have to move. He knew he couldn’t just stay still forever, though, so he eventually tried to open his eyes.

The ceiling above him was bright and glaring, making his eyes water. It smelled like bleach in the room, and he wanted to hold his nose, but his arms were too heavy for him to raise. Gradually, he opened his mouth, and croaked out, “Is Aoba okay?” He had a feeling of where he was and what was going to happen to him, so that was really the only important question for him to ask.

“He’s perfectly fine. We took him home and tucked him safely in bed.” A crisp voice sounded from beside him, and Sei smiled at the information. He didn’t speak anymore though; he was well on his way to losing his voice as it was.

“Would you like some water?” Someone asked him, and Sei nodded slightly. A few moments later, he felt a cold liquid entering his mouth and closed his eyes. He fell back asleep before the cup left his dry lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time we got to the part in the story where the summary actually makes sense, right?


	7. Chapter 7

Sen’s return to the household was more uneventful than Clear thought it would be. Of course, Clear knew that Sen would only greet him with a grunt and a mild glare as usual, but he’d thought that the three of them would at least go out to eat for once or something. That didn’t happen, though; Sen and Grandpa simply talked in another room for a long time, and when dinnertime finally rolled around, everyone was tense. Clear didn’t like it, and left to go to sleep early.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, though. In actuality, Clear _always_ had a hard time getting to sleep. He would lay in his bed for hours at night without feeling tired, and usually he had to forcibly mentally exhaust himself somehow to help keep his eyes shut. It’s not as if he even needed to get sleep at all to function; he always had energy. He would just rather be able to spend his time sleeping rather than staying up all night doing absolutely nothing. Sometimes, Grandpa would give him medicine to help, but he’d stopped doing that recently. Clear didn’t know why he’d stopped, but it annoyed him; he could sure use that medicine right about now.

Staring at the white ceiling from his bed, he sighed restlessly. It had been hours since he came up to his room, and still nothing. Maybe he shouldn’t have decided to “go to sleep early”… It’s not as if Sen or Grandpa believed he was tired. They knew he couldn’t sleep. But downstairs just had such a tense atmosphere…

His inner musings were interrupted when the door opened, and he watched through the darkness as Sen entered. During the few months Sen was gone, being in their room was lonely for Clear – unbearably so. Because when he was awake for most of the night, at least having another person near him would make him feel safer. Being awake in the empty room had made him scared for some reason, and it was then even harder to fall asleep.

Sen didn’t acknowledge him as he changed, but just as he was about to crawl into his own bed, he turned towards Clear. Clear couldn’t see his expression through the darkness, but his voice sounded emotionless.

“How was your sleep cycle when I was gone?”

Clear blinked in confusion at the question concerning himself – Sen always feigned not caring about him at all. He answered into the darkness, “Bad… Really bad, since Grandpa isn’t giving me medicine anymore. And it’s harder to fall asleep without someone else here…”

Seeming to ignore his last statement, Sen walked towards his bedside with a mildly apprehensive look on his face. “Really? What made him decide that now?”

“I don’t know…” Clear was about to say something else, when Sen’s hand reached towards him. It lifted his head off the pillow and reached to the back of his neck, then going down the back of his shirt. The coldness of it startled Clear, as did the motion, and his heart jumped in nervousness. This was unexpected. What was Sen doing?

The thoughts didn’t have any time to linger in his mind. Sen moved his other hand to Clear’s eyes, covering them, and they suddenly seemed to roll to the back of his head automatically. He felt fear for a split second, before sleep finally came to him.

 

 

The leaves on the trees were just starting to turn red and orange when Koujaku had to leave Clear. It was a very pretty day, so Clear felt sort of cheated that he didn’t get to enjoy it. When he expressed this, Koujaku smiled at him apologetically and said that the two of them could spend the day together in the city – then, at least, maybe his day wouldn’t be so bad.

It actually did turn out to be pretty fun. After all, Clear didn’t go out into the city that often. Everything was exciting and new to him; he tried foods he’d never bothered to try before, and finally got to experience the glory that was window shopping. It wasn’t as if either had much money to spend, so they didn’t buy anything, but it was still fun to Clear. He knew it had to end eventually, though, and the foreboding feeling in his heart never went away.

When he was dropped off at his house again, Clear cried for the third time in his life. He didn’t know why Koujaku was leaving the area; he said he wasn’t going back to the island, but just that he had things to do elsewhere and wouldn’t be seeing Clear for years. He would be getting rid of his coil and obtaining a new one to cut off any chances of his father or the rest of his family tracking him down, so Clear wouldn’t be able to call. Perhaps they would never see each other again. The meaning of it all suddenly hit Clear hard just when they were going to part ways, and Koujaku had to hold him for a long time before he stopped crying.

Clear honestly had no idea what he was going to do; Katsuo was leaving along with Koujaku, so he would have no close friends to talk to at all really. Well, except for Noiz, his one online friend that he was rather close with – but he had been talking to Clear less and less lately… Clear felt like everyone was leaving him, and it was terrifying. Not to mention what Koujaku had been talking about that one time in the hospital… Ever since that day, Clear had been thinking about what he’d said, but still had no ideas or leads as to what it meant.

He expected to never fall asleep that night, having so many consuming thoughts. So it surprised him when he closed his eyes quickly. Perhaps he’d mentally exhausted himself enough without meaning to.

The following school week wasn’t very nice for Clear. He didn’t act outwardly differently to any of his friends, so no one noticed, but inside he was bored and depressed. All he could do was focus on his schoolwork and try not to think about how much he missed Koujaku and Katsuo. Seeing Sen again when he got back home from school always eased his mind, but it didn’t help when he was actually _at_ school. Not to mention how different some of his other friends had been acting since the beginning of the school year. During class he’d already overheard Hitomi talking to a boy about drugs – something Clear had never been interested in, and didn’t want any part of.

Oftentimes, since he worked so diligently to prevent himself from thinking about important things, he finished his work early and had nothing else to do for the remainder of class. One day, when he felt that the teacher wasn’t paying as much attention, he decided to open his coil up and text Noiz. He didn’t really expect the other to answer – who knew what time it was over in Germany – but he wanted to try anyway.

 

[ **Today** 1:14 PM]

**fuwafuwa11:** hey are you there? im REALLY bored :(

 

Many minutes passed without a response, so Clear figured that Noiz just wasn’t there as usual. That’s why he was surprised and thrilled when the other boy _did_ eventually answer.

 

[ **Today** 1:29 PM]

**bn_head:** im here

**fuwafuwa11:** yay! sorry im just in class right now and really bored.

**bn_head:** youre in class

**fuwafuwa11:** yeah! what time is it over there?

**bn_head:** its six in the morning

**fuwafuwa11:** woah! how come youre up so early? do you have to wake up early because of school because I DO :(

**bn_head:** no. the noise it made when you texted me woke me up

**fuwafuwa11:** really? aaaaa im so sorry >_< you can go back to sleep if you want

**bn_head:** how early do you wake up for school?

**fuwafuwa11:** huh? well I wake up at near four in the morning usually to do farm stuff yanno

**fuwafuwa11: …** so you dont have to wake up early for your school?

**bn_head:** i used to have to wake up at seven

**fuwafuwa11:** lucky :P

**fuwafuwa11:** why “used to”?

**bn_head:** im not going to school anymore

**fuwafuwa11:** whaaaaat? why not?? :0

**bn_head:** im being homeschooled now. it just started a few weeks ago

**fuwafuwa11:** homeschooled? thats pretty neat. how come?

**bn_head:** thats why i havent been able to talk that much. i was just busy. there was an accident and i cant go to school anymore. my parents and my doctor want me to stay at home.

**fuwafuwa11:** accident? oh nooo are you hurt? what happened?

**bn_head:** ill tell you about it later. im tired so im going back to sleep.

**fuwafuwa11:** okay :( have sweet dreams~!

 

Clear sighed and put away his coil before the teacher saw him. The conversation with his friend was supposed to make him feel better, but it had just ended up making him feel more uneasy. An accident that prevented Noiz from going to school? Maybe Clear was just paranoid, but the scenario sounded awfully like what Koujaku went though, and it made him feel perturbed. Now, in addition to his feelings of loneliness, he was impatient to find out what had happened to Noiz. Great.

When he got home from school he checked his coil immediately, but Noiz hadn’t sent him anything more. In a few more hours, he even sent him a quick message asking if he was awake enough to explain things to him yet, but there was still no immediate reply. It was only after Clear had changed into his pajamas already when Noiz texted him again, and Clear engaged him eagerly.

 

[ **Today** 10:43 PM]

**bn_head:** sorry for taking so long. im here.

**fuwafuwa11:** yay ^_^ i was really worried after what you said! what happened to you?

**bn_head:** a week ago i got in an accident while riding a motorbike.

**fuwafuwa11:** woah! you have a motorbike? how old are you? :0

**bn_head:** im eleven. it wasnt my motorbike.

**fuwafuwa11:** whaaaaattt?? youre eleven? O_O wow i thought you were older than me!

**bn_head:** how old are you?

**fuwafuwa11:** im fifteen!

**bn_head:** its not that big of a difference.

**fuwafuwa11:** yes it is! and not fair, when i was eleven i wasnt nearly as cool as you >:(

**bn_head:** what are you talking about.

**fuwafuwa11:** ahhhh nevermind~ but wow why were you riding a motorbike that wasnt yours? do you even know how to ride then?

**bn_head:** not really.

**fuwafuwa11:** >_<

**fuwafuwa11:** noiizzzzzz thats so dangerous!! why would you do that?

**bn_head:** i was bored and i wanted to do it.

**fuwafuwa11:** thats not a very good reason… your parents must have been really worried.

**bn_head:** they were.

**fuwafuwa11:** :( how hurt are you? are you better now?

**bn_head:** i have a few stitches but theyre okay. im also in a wheelchair. my right leg got crushed under the motorbike in a weird way.

**fuwafuwa11:** oh my gosh thats awful! :0 im so sorry!!! when do you get out of the wheelchair?

**bn_head:** i dont know. at first my doctor told my parents that i would never be able to walk again but now he says that i could get out of the wheelchair eventually. i still wouldnt be able to walk normally ever though.

**fuwafuwa11:** :( :( :( im really sad. it must be terrible to hear that. im glad you can eventually get out of the wheelchair though. but how are you going to walk without it?

**bn_head:** i have a brace. the doctor made it sound worse than it actually is. ill still walk but it will just look sort of crooked i think. and ill have to wear baggy pants or shorts because of the brace. but its not even a big deal ill still be able to walk.

**fuwafuwa11:** that still sounds hard though… will you have to wear the brace all the time forever?

**bn_head:** most of the time. i already tried taking it off without a wheelchair either, and i just fall down. its going to be impossible for me to walk without it.

**fuwafuwa11:** :( that really sucks. sorry..

**bn_head:** its fine, i dont care. its not going to change anything much.

**fuwafuwa11:** ^_^ i expected you to say something like that! of course noiz-san wouldnt let something like this stop him~

**bn_head:** youre pretty weird.

**fuwafuwa11:** youre weirder :P and youre eleven, i still cant believe that…

**bn_head:** whatever.

**bn_head:** im going to go now.

**fuwafuwa11:** ok~! talk to me tomorrow! oh and send me some pictures of your brace sometime! i sorta want to see what it looks like >_>

**bn_head:** sure. bye.

 

Clear turned off his coil and sighed, getting into bed. Noiz’s situation worried him, but other than that he still wasn’t quite sure what to think. There was obviously something else going on here; who would just get in a motorbike accident on a whim because they’re “bored”? Clear also wasn’t sure why he felt the need to see what his brace looked like, but he thought that asking didn’t do any harm, so he wasn’t concerned.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must’ve somehow, because Sen woke him up with a pillow to the face in the morning. Within ten minutes he was downstairs, groggily eating his toast and checking his coil. Surprisingly, Noiz had sent him a file. He opened it curiously, and it turned out to be a picture of his stretched-out leg in a black brace.

The brace itself wasn’t as bulky as Clear imagined it to be, and just looked like dark stripes running along Noiz’s skin – a few stripes perpendicular to each other on his thigh and calf. They were clearly metal, though, and on the side of Noiz’s knee there was a small part that looked like some sort of machinery. Clear imagined it would make a clicking or squeaking noise whenever Noiz bent his leg to walk, and he felt sorry for the boy. People would know right away that something had happened to him to make him walk that way.

Nevertheless, the sight was still cool to Clear, which shocked him. This wasn’t something that was supposed to be cool; Noiz was hurt after all! But the brace, for some reason, made Clear feel like that part of Noiz’s body was a machine – something robotic – and it was interesting to him. Of course, it was just a brace and it wasn’t as if he had to get a whole robotic leg or anything, but it still felt familiar to Clear a reason he didn’t feel like thinking about.

He looked away and sighed, feeling sorry for Noiz again. Sure it seemed cool to him for a second, but Noiz was probably suffering! As Clear left for school that day, he formulated a plan in his mind to send Noiz a get-well gift-basket or something of the sort; it was the least he could do.

 

 

Aoba woke up in the middle of the night with a start, sweat dripping down the side of his face. For a few minutes he writhed in his sheets, not knowing where he was, but then came to his senses and sank back into the comforting bed. He must’ve had a nightmare.

“Sei…” He mumbled groggily, half of his face buried in the pillow.

There was no response. Aoba’s eyes opened wide again to look; usually, Sei would be there, but the other half of the bed was empty. He froze in confusion as his mind tried to register the situation.

That was right. Sei had disappeared. He wouldn’t be here…

Tears rose to Aoba’s eyes and he chokingly sobbed, putting a hand to his mouth. How long had it been since that day? In his mind he thought it was only a few days ago… But as he looked around the darkness of his room he realized that couldn’t be the case. Things in the room were moved around more than usual – the calendar was even flipped to the October now. July was when it had happened… How could he not remember the past couple months? Everything was a blur…

He rocked in dysphoria for a long time; it could’ve been ten minutes or an hour. He couldn’t tell. But eventually, he shakily got out of bed and made his way to where Granny was sleeping. It’d been a long time since he’d gone to her for comfort in the middle of the night – in fact, he barely could remember a time when he’d done that. But that was because Sei had always been there… Sei…

Granny took a while to wake up, but once she did, she took Aoba in her arms to soothe him. His words were too incomprehensible to understand, and she didn’t know what was wrong, so she simply held him for an hour until he fell into a fitful slumber. It was obvious to her now that something had to be done; Aoba, ever since Sei’s disappearance, had been regarding absolutely everyone with malice or indifference. And now here he was crying to her for help. His elaborate mood changes concerned her. She’d been spending so much time trying to find Sei somehow, but at this moment she knew that helping Aoba had to move to be her first priority.

When Aoba finally woke up in the morning, she was even more certain of this, because he’d immediately reverted back to his cold and vindictive self with a renewed intensity.

 

 

_“Ugh… What are you doing?”_

“H…Huh?” Aoba mumbled, his brain as disorderly as ever. He didn’t know where he was, what he was just doing, or what he planned on doing. All he perceived was the present moment.

_“I told you that I could handle everything, and there you go getting nervous.”_

“…Who are you?” He heard a groan of frustration.

_“Don’t tell me that you’re going to forget about me every time we talk! Why are you always like this…?”_

“Oh…” Something turned on in Aoba’s brain, and he remembered the voice he was currently talking to. His own voice – the person was him, but separate from him at the same time.

“You’re… me.”

_“There you go. Anyway, as I said, quit freaking out for once. Granny is just going to be bothering us even more now.”_

“Granny…” Aoba couldn’t remember what Granny had to do with anything – his mind was too muddled – but at the mention of another person, someone else came to his mind as well.

“Mizuki…”

_“What about him?”_

“…I need to apologize to him… for hurting his feelings…”

_“Oh, not that shit again. Really? **I’m** not apologizing to him. He’s just being selfish. Get over it.”_

“No… We’re friends with him…”

_“ **I** don’t want to be friends with him. We don’t need friends. They don’t fit in with us.”_

“Mizuki needs us… He must be… so sad…”

_“ **I’m** sad! So are you! Who cares about him? He can’t understand us!”_

Aoba vaguely realized his eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. They started closing without him controlling it, and his thoughts broke apart.

“Please… Go say sorry to Mizuki…”

He heard words, but he couldn’t understand them. His consciousness was too weak to hold out, and it faded away.

 

 

A soft melody flowed through the parlor, and Clear smiled blissfully at the sounds he made. Playing the piano always managed to relax him, no matter what; but it was even more enjoyable to him when other people took pleasure from it as well. Recently though, with his close friends leaving him and Grandpa becoming more distant, he hadn’t had any opportunity to play for anyone…

He sighed, composing himself. This was the perfect chance, though; Sen was in the kitchen nearby, making some instant ramen. There was no door separating the two rooms, and he was only a few feet away, able to hear every note Clear played. Grandpa had left early that morning to meet with the shipper, so the two boys were alone in the house. Clear couldn’t mess up now…

However, as he played now, he felt his fingers stumbling unnaturally and his pulse quickening. Something was distracting him, making him mess up! What was it? Clear’s lips trembled in anxiety as he continued clumsily, and eventually Sen leaned against the doorway to stare at him, raising his eyebrow. Clear flushed in embarrassment and stopped playing. How come he’d messed up so bad?

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Sen asked with a smirk, “Been harder to play recently?”

Clear frowned, scooting the bench away from the piano in defeat. “Yeah…” Ever since Sen had gotten back from his trip, Clear had gotten used to getting more attention from him and less from Grandpa. He didn’t know the reason for the change, but he noticed it was especially noticeable once he’d asked Grandpa again if he could have more medicine to help him sleep. The man softly refused and told him not to ask anymore. Clear was frustrated and confused, but hadn’t said anything more about it. Now, though, he felt like he was ready to get answers. He was sick of not knowing – of feeling like everyone knew something that he didn’t. Sen and Grandpa seemed to be extremely careful about what they talked about around him recently, and he was starting to feel left out. Hell, even _Koujaku_ had seemed to know something that he didn’t, from that one time at the hospital…

“How come?” Sen’s smirk was gone, but his tone was still casual. Clear looked down.

“I don’t know…” Feeling lost, he looked to the picture on top of the piano. Ah, yes, _that_ picture. The picture of the boy he didn’t know – the picture he was always afraid to ask about, even after so many years of not knowing.

He sighed. Grandpa wasn’t home, and only Sen was here. It was a better time than ever, he supposed. “Um, Sen…”

Sen had already turned back to walk to the stove again, but acknowledged him with a grunt. Clear breathed heavily once again.

“…Uh, who is the person in that picture?”

“Just a second…” Sen called out distractedly, and Clear waited in suspense until he came back to the room. “What picture?”

“That one.” Clear pointed, and Sen looked.

“…Oh.” At face value, Sen was as expressionless as ever, but Clear noticed his right eye twitch slightly.

After a few periods of silence, Clear grew more impatient than scared. He’d already asked – no point just saying “never mind” now. “Well?”

“That’s… just one of my friends. You probably forgot about him. He moved away when you were too little, and I didn’t hang out that much with him anyway.” Already, Sen began moving back to the kitchen – clearly a sign to drop the subject. Clear wouldn’t take that, though, and craned his neck to keep looking at him.

“Well, if you didn’t hang out with him that much, then why do we have a picture of him? We _never_ keep pictures of people outside the family! And how come I’ve seen this picture here for as long as I can remember?”

At Clear’s raised voice, Sen turned back around with a glare. “Look, kid, don’t get pissy with me-“

Normally, Clear would react submissively, but this time he was determined. “I’m serious! I know that no one ever tells me anything… And I’m not a kid anymore, Sen! I want to know more. I know something’s wrong with me… And I’m tired of people keeping secrets from me.”

Sen stared at Clear for a few seconds, seemingly testing him, before sighing in exasperation and trudging back to the piano. Clear kept his serious expression on, but let it go a bit when Sen picked up the picture frame. After looking intently at the picture for a moment, he put it back and finally said, “There’s nothing _wrong_ with you…”

Clear immediately objected. “But I’m different. I know I am by now! When I was little, you guys made me think that it wasn’t a big deal that I had to do things differently… But I don’t even know who I am now because of that. Why can’t you tell me?”

At his pleading question, Sen shot him a tired glare. “I _will_ tell you right _now_ , you idiot. I get it; you’re sick of it. I am too. Calm down.”

Surprised at Sen’s new disposition, Clear nodded and quieted down. Sen looked up and sighed, thinking hard, and then turned back to him resolutely. “Okay, you want to know who that is?”

Clear nodded eagerly.

“Fine. Clear, that’s you.”

…What? Clear looked to the picture in disbelief. Sure, the boy _did_ look like him, but his hair was different, and he didn’t remember taking that picture. It was impossible. Still, Sen was looking at him expectantly.

“…You’re not serious. That can’t be me…”

But Sen’s now faintly sad expression told Clear that he couldn’t be just joking. “Well, it isn’t you as you are now, I guess… This is you as you were a long time ago.”

Almost still unable to believe it, Clear took a few seconds to comprehend the statement. Then, “What do you mean? Please, you have to explain to me…”

“Okay…” Sen sat down next to him with a sigh and took the picture again; there was a clearly pitying look in his eyes, one Clear hadn’t seen before. “Just don’t interrupt me. This boy… used to be my brother. He was Dad’s first son. I loved him, everyone loved him… But he didn’t love himself. He mustn’t have, because when he was fourteen he hung himself. In the doorway of our bathroom. I’m the one who found him. Dad was devastated. I didn’t completely understand what was going on after that, but he seemed to be looking for ways to bring his dead son back to life. Eventually, he found a man who said he’d help him do it. And two years after the initial incident… There you were, Clear.” Sen looked from the picture back to him again, with a serious expression, but Clear didn’t say anything. He couldn’t at this point.

When Clear didn’t speak, Sen sighed and continued. “We let you call Dad your “Grandpa”. It made sense like that; sure, Dad isn’t old enough to be your Grandpa, but he isn’t young enough to be called your father… They said that you were “reborn” as a toddler, in a robotic body that had the ability to grow like a human’s, but I know that was just a pretty way of saying that they created you to be that way because they didn’t want to go through the hassle of raising you from an infantile age. Too many risks. Basically, your old brain and consciousness was put into this body, but all your memories were gone, of course… They couldn’t have you knowing. You would probably try to kill yourself again or something. Your hair was also supposed to gain pigment within a few years of your creation – usually it’s supposed to work like that, I guess – but yours always stayed white… It probably wasn’t what Dad had expected. You _weren’t_ his first son brought back to life; you were more like another _different_ boy – his grandson that was given to him. We even gave you a different name. That’s probably why they said you weren’t a success… But don’t misunderstand me. It’s a good thing that you weren’t a success to them; otherwise they would’ve tricked Dad and just taken you to use for themselves.”

Clear could barely comprehend what Sen was saying, and Sen saw this, staying quiet for a few minutes to let him take everything in. Clear knew in his mind that it was true though. Perhaps he had known all along – how he was never really tired, how Grandpa “replaced” his eyes, what Koujaku had said to him – tried to get him to realize. The truth had always been there. Was he just lying to himself all this time? Denying it so he could feel better and pretend that he would be living here happily forever?

He just needed to affirm it; a soft whisper passed between his lips. “So I’m… a robot?”

“…Yes. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t a person. I’m sorry for being so cold with you all the time. It’s just because when I look at you… I see my brother, and I’m angry that you aren’t really him. You are your own person, Clear.”

He could vaguely hear Sen’s kind words, and nodded slightly in appreciation. He didn’t feel sad – not really. Just empty. Perhaps he _did_ know it deep down all along, but hearing it out loud was just so jarring, he couldn’t think clearly.

“…Thank you for telling me… Can I go to sleep? Please?” Clear finally looked at Sen. Maybe sleeping for a while would let it all sink in – or he wouldn’t have to think about it, at least.

Sen looked back at him in slight worry, before nodding. “Sure. I can do that… Dad is going to be pissed when he comes home, I swear. I don’t care though…” He mumbled to himself as he grabbed Clear and moved his hand down the back of his shirt again. Yes, Clear thought. Turn me off, make me sleep somehow, whatever it is. Better than staying in reality for now.

When Clear awoke, he was in his bed and there were faint traces of tear tracks down his pale face. He must’ve been crying in his sleep. That was the fourth time, then.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's Noiz. Finally. I had such a good time writing this one.
> 
> Note that they're supposed to be speaking in German of course.

_“Noiz, whenever you get mad, just squeeze something **really** hard, and then you’ll feel better!”_

That was the rule that one of his nannies told him. He had to admit, it was a good effort to try and stop him from provoking any more fights with his classmates, but it still ended up backfiring in the end when he came home bearing scars from his own fingernails. Only then did she specify that he was supposed to squeeze an _inanimate object_ – Noiz made sure to keep this rule in his mind, especially if it would make his mother less cross with him.

So that day in his third year class, as the class pet was passed around to be held and poked at by the curious eight-year-olds, he yelled and yelled at himself to not fight back against those boys audibly calling him names. The three of them sat right behind him, and refused to let go the of the notion that Noiz was some sort of inhuman beast – words Noiz had heard before, but they were still annoying.

When the girl next to him finally dropped the small animal onto his desk, though, his anger faded, and he looked at the creature in amazement. It was a young bunny, with pure white fur and large, gleaming eyes. Its twitchy movements were captivating to Noiz, and he picked up the animal carefully, cradling it in his small, calloused hands. Immediately he felt regret that he couldn’t feel the softness of its fur, but his happiness didn’t fade, because the bunny didn’t run away or struggle. It even seemed to like him.

In his astonishment, Noiz almost forgot that the annoying boys were there until one of them spoke up loudly near his ear.

“Come _on_ , he’s going to eat it alive if we let him have it too long!”

“Run, bunny, run!”

“Shut up…” Noiz mumbled it lowly enough that they didn’t hear; if they did hear, it would just provoke them more. His fists were slowly clenching around the bunny in agitation, though. Those boys were so stupid – they didn’t know what they were talking about. Noiz wasn’t…

“Mrs. Garfetti, if Noiz eats the rabbit can we keep his brother has a class pet instead so we can do the same as payback?” One of the boys raises his voice cheekily, and the other two immediately try to shush him in a hurry, afraid of being told off. Luckily, the teacher didn’t notice amongst all the other noise in the classroom, but Noiz sure heard. His teeth clenched.

“Better yet, we can just keep Noiz as the class pet and keep him in a cage all day like the animal he is.”

“That’s right. Hey, Noiz, hear that?” Yes, he’d heard. “Going to punch me? Oh, ha, just kidding! You’re too _scared_ to punch me now, aren’t you? You’ll get in _trouble._ ” Noiz’s fists tightened even harder, and he did all he could to stop himself from turning around and throwing himself at the other boy in anger. The bunny squeaked in protest at the increased pressure, but Noiz didn’t notice.

“Noiz~? You listening?”

“Quit talking to him, guys…” One of the girls sitting nearby, seeing that a fight was probably about to occur, spoke up softly. Noiz’s hands were shaking.

“What? Don’t worry, he’s not going to do anything now. I think they tranquilized him or something so he won’t give us _rabies_. See?”

The boy pulled at Noiz’s hair hard enough to snap his head back, and although Noiz didn’t feel the pain on his head, his teeth involuntarily bit into his tongue with powerful force. A strange feeling coursed through him – one he couldn’t place, but it was strong enough to cause his hands to clench even tighter.

He heard a cracking sound from in front of him, and tasted iron in his mouth. His hands felt weird, like they were in a place they shouldn’t be. He leaned forward and looked down. The girl beside him was screaming loudly, and he heard others get up from their seats around him.

On his lap was still the bunny, but now disfigured. Noiz’s right thumb had jabbed through its eye socket, and the rest of his fingers had by now moved the creature’s bones awkwardly, mutilating it. He could sense a strange, warm wetness over his hands, and as he squeezed his fingers together again something soft was surrounding them. It was like a dream; the bunny didn’t seem like a _real_ creature anymore, so he ripped his hands out of it in fear. Blood went flying and the body dropped to the floor. Noiz’s hands smelled foul for the rest of the day.

The sight could never truly leave his mind. How could it? He hadn’t known it was that easy to take a life; he hadn’t even realized that he’d done it. It was _too_ easy, and since that day, every time he saw an animal he felt the same feeling – thought the same thought of _“If I clenched my fingers too hard right now, this thing would be dead.”_ Or when he saw that knife on the counter – _“I could just take that right now and stab my father with it. Or my brother. Myself”_

It was an amazingly terrifying feeling. Perhaps he really was a monster.

 

 

“Noiz~! Noiz~! Noiz…”

There was an incessant banging on his door, he knew. But the part of his brain that realized this was off at the moment, so he couldn’t do anything about it. How could anyone expect him to answer the door when he was half-asleep listening to his music on full blast?

It may have been more than thirty minutes until he finally got up to open the door, but the person behind it still hadn’t left. In fact, the scruffy seven-year-old was sitting outside pouting at him, then running into his room immediately when Noiz opened the door. The young boy ran to his bed and picked up the earphones, inspecting them curiously.

“Can I listen to your music?” His voice was happy and eager. It made Noiz’s chest hurt.

“Sure.”

Noiz showered, dressed, and returned to his room; his brother was still there. He wondered if the younger boy _actually_ liked his music or was just pretending to; after all, most of it was just electronic, and their mother would usually describe that kind of music as a mind-numbing clamor that just brainwashes you. She just said that because she couldn’t understand it, though.

It was because of their mother that Noiz sort of wanted his brother to leave already. He would’ve pushed him out of the room himself, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Never.

“Lou.”

At Noiz’s cold voice, the younger looked up with a questioning hum.

“Get out of my room.”

“Okay…”

Louis leaved, albeit dejectedly, but it couldn’t be helped. It was better for him to leave sad than for either of their parents to catch them. Besides, they had to go to school soon anyway.

Noiz shuddered. He hated school. They went to a different one now after that bunny incident – one farther away – but he still hated it just as much as the first. The only difference was that his parents didn’t have to pay for him to go, although they gave the school money on occasion to keep up their image.

“Good morning Ali! Good morning Shae!” Noiz heard from his brother’s room as he walked down the hall to his bathroom. That was his brother’s morning ritual; saying hello to the kittens and feeding them. His friend’s cat had birthed kittens, and it looked like Mother and Father were feeling generous enough to let Louis buy two of them from him. Usually they didn’t keep pets because of Noiz, but Mother made him promise that he wouldn’t go near them.

As soon as the kittens were bought – two weeks ago – Noiz sent a few pictures of them to Clear with no explanation. He hadn’t known the other for very long, but Noiz was certain that Clear was the kindest person in his life. Not that it was a good thing; mostly, he found Clear annoying, but would occasionally humor him. They definitely weren’t friends – at least not in his eyes – but then again, Noiz didn’t quite understand how to know if he was “friends” with someone or not. As expected, hours later Clear replied overdramatically; he loved any type of animal, so Noiz expected as much. That was why he sent the pictures in the first place, he guessed, although he wasn’t sure why he would go out of his way to engage someone like that. Whatever; it didn’t matter…

Since that first time, he hadn’t gotten near the kittens at all, no matter how much he wanted to. He liked rabbits much better – the incident four years ago hadn’t changed that – but anything fluffy seemed like a good idea to him. As much as he wanted to see them in the morning, though, he knew he couldn’t, so he restrained himself.

Noiz’s routine after waking up was automatic and mundane; he’d quickly shower, dress in his school uniform, eat whatever was set out in front of him for breakfast… Although Louis was an extremely picky eater and would usually ask for something else, Noiz would eat whatever was given to him without complaint. Father, as health conscious as ever, would never let them have chocolate or sweets though, and Noiz felt like he was missing out whenever he saw other kids eating candy. Food was something he really wanted to experience a lot of; his tongue was the most important part of his body to him, after all. But he knew he couldn’t possibly complain to his father.

No, never his parents. Which was why he took his anger out on those other kids who made him even angrier – even angrier than he felt when his mother had to ask him as they were driving to school _every morning-_

“Are you going to hurt anyone today, Noiz?”

“No.”

“Did you let Louis near you without my supervision, Noiz?”

“No.”

“…Good boy.”

Most of his answers were lies, but he knew he had to lie so she would feel reassured.

The school building itself, although not as prestigious as his previous school, was still grand and pretty-looking. That didn’t matter, though, because whenever Noiz looked at it a feeling of disgust would swell in his gut. He hated absolutely everything about school: the teachers, the students, the curriculum… It was all a waste of time, because he already knew most of the things he was supposed to be learning.

He hated being there, and everyone there hated him back. So he never saw why he had to go. There were a few occasions where he’d skipped, but the consequences were too much of a hassle and just made his parents more cross with him. Since before, though, he’d learned to simply “leave early” if he got too bored; no one made such a big deal if you at least were present for the first half of the day, and his parents were rarely notified.

In fact, he was thinking of doing just that today. It didn’t help that he’d started the day feeling rather dismal, and he’d already come close to punching a few kids. By lunch, he was decided.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who had this idea. As he was about to walk out the cafeteria doors, something grabbed his arm. Immediately, he roughly shrugged them off and turned to face them – a boy in the same year as him, named Karsten. He was known as a troublemaker – just like Noiz, only more popular, since he at least had a few friends. Noiz was sure Karsten even considered _him_ a friend, but Noiz didn’t feel the same, and didn’t want the other boy as a friend in the first place. Karsten aggravated him just as much any other kid would, and showed no respect towards anyone whatsoever – at least Noiz _had_ a filter. The other boy also had grown a penchant for dying his hair within the past year; today it was black, but next week it could be green.

“Hey, you ditching?” He asked in his usual upbeat voice – one of the things Noiz got annoyed at. Karsten was noticeably bubblier than practically _anyone_ else Noiz knew – except maybe Clear – but that might have just been because there weren’t too many bubbly people where he lived. Noiz’s eye twitched slightly as he scowled.

“Yeah.”

Not dissuaded by Noiz’s unfriendly tone, Karsten smiled wildly. “Great! I’m coming with. Don’t feel like starting a food fight today, and people expect me to and all… I’ve gotta make _some_ excuse for not messing around, so why don’t I ditch, yanno? Or maybe ditching would be considered messing around too…? Huh…”

“Whatever.”

“…Come on, then! You’re so boring…” Karsten loudly complained as he grabbed Noiz’s arm and dragged him out into the hall. Noiz, disgusted again, roughly pulled himself out of his grip, and avoided any other attempts of physical contact. That was the thing that he hated the most about school – too many people touching him. It was a constant reminder of his unknown “condition”, and he hated it.

Once they were outside, Karsten turned to him with bright eyes and exclaimed, “Hey, I got a great idea! Instead of walking home or whatever you do, how about we take a ride on my brother’s motorbike? He used it to get here this morning, so I’m pretty sure it should be parked somewhere…” He trailed off and started wandering to the parking lot, searching. Noiz sighed and followed him.

Honestly, he didn’t care what way he got home, but perhaps a motorbike ride would be faster and more interesting than walking. After a few moments of Karsten failing to find anything, Noiz pointed. “It’s right there, idiot.”

The dark blue motorbike was, in fact, about ten feet away from them, with the keys even still in the ignition. As they both approached it, however, Karsten began to look more and more apprehensive. With good reason, too; the thing was barely big enough to fit two people, and didn’t look very safe.

“Uh, I changed my mind… I don’t even know how to drive this anyway…” Karsten laughed nervously as he stepped back again, but Noiz glared at him.

“If you don’t know how to drive it then why did you even suggest we ride it? Besides, it has the key _still in_ ; seems like a waste to not use it.”

“My brother is just an airhead, that’s all… And it seemed like a cool idea at the time, but it was obviously dumb, I get it. Just… walk home or something!” Karsten, glaring back, seemed resolute and began to turn around.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to use it. I’m still going to.” As Noiz proclaimed this, he was already seating himself upon the motorbike. Karsten turned back, shocked and running forward.

“Hold on, hold on! My brother is gonna be pissed, you know! And you don’t know how to ride that…”

“Doesn’t look too hard. I’m smart.” Noiz arrogantly smirked at the other, and Karsten’s cheeks puffed up in agitation.

“Well, if you’re riding, then _I_ am too!”

Noiz sighed as Karsten climbed behind him, barely fitting on. “That’s dumb. There’s not enough room for you.”

“Yes there is! Just _go_ already!”

“Thought you were scared.”

“I… I’m not scared! I told you, _go_! You’re so slow all the time…”

At the mild insult, Noiz finally grunted in irritation and turned the ignition. Honestly, he had no idea how to work the thing, but he figured it would come naturally. Couldn’t be that different from riding a normal bike, right?

Noiz’s assumption turned out to be only partially right; the controls weren’t too hard for him to get a hang of, but his turns were wobbly and his speed constantly fluctuated. Everything was just too unstable. While he became frustrated at this, Karsten was having the time of his life, hollering and waving his hands in the air. Noiz was annoyed by him even more, but it wasn’t as if he could just push him off when they were about to break 50 MPH.

Luckily, there weren’t many cars out and about this time of day, but once they were farther away from the school, Noiz could see a few in the distance. He gritted his teeth and tried to slow down, but Karsten protested in his ear.

“No, go faster! This is _so_ fun! Wait, I’m going to try and stand up…”

Though his heart was starting to beat faster, Noiz’s tone was still calm and monotone. “That’s dumb. You’re going to kill us.”

“Can’t hear you~!” Karsten was now kneeling slightly, holding onto Noiz’s shoulders with more intensity as he tried to balance himself. Noiz shuddered at the increased contact.

“Get off me.”

“Dude, I _have_ to hold onto you to stand up. Just… Hold on a sec…” Karsten mumbled as he shakily stood up, still holding Noiz. Within a few seconds he raised his head to the sky and laughed loudly in happiness.

“This is _the best_!”

The wind was so loud in his ears that Noiz could barely hear, and he tried to slow down a bit more. It didn’t seem to work, though, and as cars started to pass them more frequently he could see people giving them dirty looks. They probably looked way too young to be driving this thing, so he didn’t blame them.

“Get down… Dude, seriously.” Noiz raised his voice in hopes that Karsten would obey for once, but the other didn’t acknowledge him at all and continued yelling jubilantly, raising one of his arms in the air. Another turn was coming up before them, and Noiz knew that if he tried to turn now, Karsten would be thrown off.

Honestly, he didn’t care enough at this point, so he simply gritted his teeth and tried one last time to slow down a little more. Nothing.

He would’ve tried harder if he saw that incoming car, but it was a rather sharp turn so neither party had any time to look.

In fact, Noiz’s mind didn’t even register the force of the impact before he blacked out.

 

 

That wheelchair was yet another thing Noiz grew to hate with a passion. It was too bulky, denied him from entering through certain doorways, and made stairs impossible. Not to mention it was another way for his parents to confine him to his room.

His parents had decided, once Noiz was finally admitted from the hospital, that he would be spending most of his time in his room or in the house, being homeschooled. Noiz _did_ like the idea of not going to school, but he quickly grew to hate their new setup even more, because it meant that he was even more alone and bored than before. It also became even harder to see his brother, since his mother started keeping an even closer eye on him – something Noiz didn’t even think was possible. Everyone regarded him with more fear and disdain than ever before as well, since the general consensus was that it was his fault the accident happened. And he supposed it was, so he understood their contempt towards him.

Nevertheless, there were still a few moments where Noiz’s brother saw him in secret – moments where their parents were obviously too stressed out to pay attention, or when they had gone out and forgotten to remind their domestic staff to keep a watch on the boys. One day in particular, when their parents were gone for the day, Louis slipped a piece of paper under his door. The note said, in rather impressive penmanship for a child, “Go to the end of the hall at 2:23 and I’ll help you get outside!”

Noiz wasn’t sure of the reason for the specific timing, but he figured he would give it a try. There wasn’t much to lose at this point, and he was definitely eager to get some fresh air. So, at exactly 2:23, he wheeled himself out into the hallway. Louis was there, nervously looking around for anyone else and then quickly running up behind him to grab the chair’s handles. They stayed mostly silent as Louis pushed him around; it had to be rather heavy for the eight-year-old to handle, but Noiz didn’t ask if he was okay. When they came to the stairs, though, they had to stop.

“Okay, I’ll help you get out and-“

Noiz cut his brother off, already lifting himself with his hands and grabbing onto the railing of the stairs. “I’ve got this. Just fold the chair up and bring it downstairs already so it’s there when I get down. I’m not going to fall.”

Louis looked at him for a few seconds before nodding obediently and folding the chair, proceeding to carry it down with much difficulty. Noiz, meanwhile, used the railing to support himself completely, for he knew that if he put any pressure on his braced leg he would probably give and fall down the stairs.

When they got to the ground floor, Noiz quickly seated himself and the two quietly hurried to the back door, thankfully not running into anyone on their way. When Noiz tasted fresh air on his tongue for the first time in about a month, he breathed a soft sigh of relief.

Letting him revel in the outside air for a few moments, Louis waited a while before speaking up again, this time more hesitant. “Okay, actually, there’s this really cool hill that when I saw, I thought of riding the wheelchair up and down it… Like, I could push you around, i-if you wanted to… It looks really fun. That’s why I wanted to come out here…”

Noiz sighed again. The proposal reminded him of the motorbike accident a little too much, but he still complied. “Sure.”

When he saw the hill, he was even more certain that it was okay. The slope was that steep at all, and in the end they still had a good time. Noiz actually managed to smile for the first time in a long while, and when they were going back home, Louis said something Noiz had never thought he would say.

“…Also, um, all that stuff that Father and Mother say about you… They’re all wrong.”

“…I didn’t know you heard that.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve heard it all the time, forever. I never really agreed, though. I don’t agree with what the kids in school say about you either.”

“…”

“I love you, Noiz.”

“…”

“And… I-I had fun today!”

“…Me too.”

 

 

Karsten was admitted from the hospital about six months _after_ Noiz was admitted. In short terms, he’d been in a small coma and had a plethora of fractures all throughout his body – luckily, no major brain damage. Once he was admitted, though, he was allowed to go back to school.

It was by pure luck – and maybe some bargaining from his parents, of course – that no one pressed charges. The person driving the car wasn’t injured at all, which helped as well. Karsten’s family was outraged, though, and approved of Noiz’s homeschooling. Nevertheless, unbeknownst to his parents, Karsten continued to contact Noiz after the accident, only by texting. Noiz didn’t know when the other had gotten his number, but whatever; it wasn’t as if the two texted that often anyway, even after the accident.

Honestly, Noiz texted Clear far more often – who he now knew was four years older than him, surprisingly. Noiz had expected him to actually be younger than him, because he sure acted like it, but at the end of the day he didn’t care. Clear was still – he was sure of it now – the closest thing he had to a real friend.

Since meeting the other boy, Noiz hadn’t revealed much about himself personally – that was just how he is – but Clear managed to tell him almost everything. About his farm, his oddly-constructed family, his friend Koujaku, and even his friend Koujaku’s _friend_ , some boy named Aoba. Apparently, Koujaku talked a lot about him, and that was how Clear knew him. But just _how much_ Noiz ended up knowing about Clear’s life still managed to surprise him in the end. No one had entrusted him with that kind of personal information before.

Not to mention he found it interesting to learn more about someone who actually had _friends_ , and the problems that came with them. It seemed like such an alien concept to him, but he was getting closer to finally understanding what normal kids his age were like. Though honestly, from hearing about Koujaku and all the negative feelings Clear had to go through because of him, Noiz grew to hate the guy he didn’t even know. Whenever Clear seemed upset, half of the time it was because of that guy, and Noiz didn’t like anyone but himself making Clear feel bad. Leaving Clear by himself like that also seemed like a pretty shitty thing for this guy to do, in Noiz’s opinion.

Learning more about Clear’s life actually motivated him to do something more with his own. Usually, Noiz just imagined himself being locked in his room for the rest of his life, classed as inhuman. With him now being more disabled, that kind of future for him seemed even more likely when he thought about it. But still, since talking with Clear, he couldn’t help but want to leave. This place confined him too much, and his parents were suffocating him with wounding comments and superfluous concerns. He could take it – he had been taking it – but he didn’t want it.

Noiz felt an overwhelming need for freedom and independence – one he’d never thought about – and he wanted to do something about it.

 

 

The rain was plentiful and forceful as Mink quickly walked through the abandoned, broken-down facility, followed by a few of his comrades. They were all being rained on due to the rather noticeable holes in the ceiling; the place didn’t seem like an actual building, more like several walls that were haphazardly connected to each other. It seemed as if all of their surroundings were tinted a dull grey; even the sky was murky, and the rain washed the color out of every surface.

Mink had the feeling that they were going to fail. In the back of his mind, he knew it was too late. It was if the environment was just telling him to save his breath – to not waste his time here.

“Over there.” Tori, flying a foot above them, suddenly pitched right and glided to one of the walls farther away. The men followed with bated breath, and came to a stop. Mink clenched his fists.

“We were too late.” Tori nonchalantly says just what was on Mink’s mind.

In front of them was the limp body of a red-headed man, sprawled across the now-muddy earth. He was completely soaked through his clothes, had ghostly white skin, and was definitely dead. Mink didn’t need to check his pulse to know, but he still did anyway. When he stood back up, he didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.

There may have been a time when Mink would’ve taken the body back for at least a proper burial, but now was definitely not that time. Now, all he could think about was Toue.

“Let’s go.”

At their leader’s monotone proclamation, the rest of the men turned back, occasionally looking over their shoulders at the lifeless body of the strange, inhuman man.

 

 

Sei started to realize that _maybe_ this whole _“turn himself over to the bad guy for information”_ idea was a mess-up on his part.

He’d known what was going to happen. He’d known that they were going to test on him, possibly torture him. But he hadn’t thought he would be objecting to it, because at least they would keep him alive. He thought he would’ve still had some time to carry out his real plan – to find out more about what Aoba had said to him.

The part of Aoba that remembered their childhood, that is.

Throughout their years, _that_ part of Aoba had told Sei about the first five years of their life – the ones they didn’t remember. He told him about strange men with white coats, people who were half-animal, people who did bad things to them…

Sei wanted to come here most of all, though, because this was the only chance of finding out what was happening to him and Aoba, and how to fix it. Aoba’s strange personality shifts, Sei’s sickness, the fact that Sei thought he could make people do what he wanted sometimes when he glared at them – just make them all go away, make them stop hurting his brother…

Recently though, Sei had stopped understanding the flow of time as well as he should’ve been. At first he’d ended up fighting, growling and kicking so hard they had to tranquilize him, but the past month had started and ended with him groggily passing between unconsciousness and consciousness, confused all the while. Everything was messed up in his mind – did this event happen after or before the other event? How long had he even been here? Sometimes, he felt as if he’d been here his entire life, but that was obviously not true; otherwise, he wouldn’t know Aoba, Mizuki, Koujaku…

What had happened to Koujaku again?

Is Aoba okay?

The only thing constant in his mind was Virus and Trip, because those two were with him practically daily. They had also gone through some of the same things he had so far – those strange experiments that _hurt_ but _didn’t_ – so they understood, sort of… Well, Sei liked to think they did. Despite how he used to be so untrusting of people, now he liked to assume the best. It made him more motivated to not just give up in the middle of his mission.

Yes, he had a mission; a reason why he was here. What was it again?

When Sei asked Virus if Aoba was really okay, the other laughed melodically. “This must be the sixth time he’s asked. Aoba is doing magnificent, Sei.”

No, he wasn’t. That was the tone of voice Virus used when he was lying; Sei could hear the mirth in it. He tried to speak, to protest, but something was covering his mouth to help him breathe. Whatever it was, he hoped it would be gone soon; he could breathe just fine without it, surely…

Virus was talking to someone else now, but Sei couldn’t see them. Everything was getting blurry… This was what always happened. He would be allowed a few brief moments of consciousness, and then he would be subjected to more torturous experiments. Virus told him, though, that they would always do this in the beginning. Once Sei had been there for a bit longer – maybe for a year – then, they would lighten up and get bored with him. Then, Sei could finally focus on what he was supposed to be doing here… Which was… what?

Oh, yes.

For Aoba, he chanted to himself as they pierced needles into his papery skin.

For Aoba.


	9. Chapter 9

“You know I love you, Clear.”

Seated at the kitchen table, Clear breathed a sigh of relief as his grandfather hugged him from the side. It’d been a hectic couple of days, and he was just glad they had come to some sort of comfortable conclusion.

When “Clear” had first died – as a human – Grandpa had contacted a man who claimed to be able to “bring him back to life”. Clear was still concerned about exactly _who_ the man Grandpa got help from was, but Grandpa refused to tell him anything other than that the man was “well-respected and should remain anonymous for his own good”… Whatever that meant. Clear wasn’t satisfied with that explanation; it was because of this man that he was a robot, for crying out loud! Then again, he wasn’t sure what exactly he would do if he ever met this man, because he was still having trouble figuring out his own feelings…

Should he be grateful that he’s alive, or be upset that he isn’t a human?

Since hearing Sen’s story about when he _was_ a human, he leaned more towards the former. Yet, he still longed to be like everyone else just the same; that was what most people wanted, right? To be a part of the crowd – of humanity? Clear could never have that. It wasn’t fair; wasn’t there a way to make him human, somehow? When he’d asked Grandpa, he just said that he didn’t know. Clear wanted to find a way.

“…I love you too, Grandpa.” He settled for appeasing his grandfather and letting it go for now. The family had decided they’d still be keeping Clear’s origins a secret from everyone else, and Clear wasn’t to tell anyone about how he wasn’t human. It wasn’t going to be hard to do; Clear hadn’t even _entertained_ telling anyone else the secret. He shuddered in fear at the very thought of doing so.

As soon as Grandpa let him go and went outside for work, Clear’s coil notified him of an incoming message – from Noiz. He pushed away his bowl of cereal and opened it quickly, smiling once he’d read it.

 

[ **Today** 7:03 AM]

**bn_head:** did you really just send me that big present thing.

**fuwafuwa11:** (^u^) Yes!!! It’s my get-well gift for you because of your accident! Do you like it??

**bn_head:** dude dont do that.

**bn_head:** my parents are asking me about whos sending me stuff now.

**fuwafuwa11:** Oh (u_u) Sorry!! Are you in trouble?

**bn_head:** not really. they checked through the whole thing before giving it to me though. it got here this morning and i literally just saw it.

**fuwafuwa11:** Oh haha what time is it there again?

**bn_head:** 11 at night.

**fuwafuwa11:** Woah~

**fuwafuwa11:** Wait, your parents know Japanese too? I thought they just wouldn’t know what it said..

**bn_head:** of course they know, why do you think im learning.

**fuwafuwa11:** Oh~??? They’re making you learn it then?

**bn_head:** not really. im just teaching myself. and they just want my brother and i to be multilingual.

**fuwafuwa11:** That’s cool! How many languages do you know?

**bn_head:** german japanese and english. im not fluent in japanese or english though. im just learning. and im learning french also but i know even less of it so i probably couldnt hold a conversation.

**fuwafuwa11:** Woooow!! That’s a lot! I’m so jealous… And wow, you’ve gotten so good at Japanese you’re practically fluent I think!

**bn_head:** thats just writing. i cant speak it to save my life.

**fuwafuwa11:** Oh I’m sure it’s not that bad~

**bn_head:** no it really is.

**fuwafuwa11:** Well do you have anyone to practice with? I could help sometime~ It would be really fun!

**bn_head:** …maybe.

**fuwafuwa11:** Hmmm okay~ And I’m really sorry it took so long for my present to get to you :(

**bn_head:** when did you send it?

**fuwafuwa11:** About a month ago (u_u) But you have it now at least, right? Do you like it?

**bn_head:** …i guess so. its sort of cute.

**fuwafuwa11:** That’s the idea~! The blanket is made from real alpaca wool!!

**bn_head:** thats a blanket?

**fuwafuwa11:** (>_<) HEY~ I made that myself! For the first time ever! I thought I did a good job?

**bn_head:** okay okay it looks nice.

**fuwafuwa11:** And it feels nice too??

**bn_head:** .. sure it does.

**fuwafuwa11:** Good! :) Be sure to use it!

**bn_head:** i will.

**fuwafuwa11:** Actually, use it right now to go to sleep because I think it’s your bedtime young man~ :P

**bn_head:** youre weird.. okay.

**fuwafuwa11:** Haha~ Goodnight!

 

Clear sighed happily when Noiz didn’t reply again; he was relieved that his gifts had finally reached him. He was beginning to think they weren’t going to ever arrive; or maybe they had, and Noiz just didn’t like them so he didn’t say anything… But now Clear’s worries were gone, and he could relax.

For a moment, he thought of perhaps telling Noiz what he’d found out about himself recently… But, he immediately erased that thought. The other boy either wouldn’t believe him, or would no longer want to talk to him… Noiz _already_ thought he was really weird, so there was no sense in pushing even further.

 

 

Leaning against the outside wall of the derelict building, Aoba rolled his eyes subtly while listening to Mizuki, who still had a good-natured smile on his face. From inside Aoba’s jacket, Ren looked back and forth between them attentively.

“Aoba, just listen to me. They’re all good guys, and I have a feeling we’re going to build ourselves a solid reputation. What’s the harm in you joining? …It just doesn’t feel right without you there, you know?”

Letting out a huff of air, Aoba reached into his jacket pocket nonchalantly and responded, “There’s no harm; I get the appeal and all, and I’m happy for you. Just not my thing, you know? Too much trouble. I don’t want to get involved.”

Mizuki’s face tightened in frustration. “Okay, I understand that it’s not your thing. But you can’t use the excuse that it’s _‘too much trouble’_ when _this-_ “ To prove his point, Mizuki yanked the hand Aoba had shoved into his jacket and tore the small plastic bag from his grip, waving it in the air. “-is the kind of _trouble_ you’re getting into.”

“Hey chill out.” Despite the accusation, Aoba smirked audaciously. “I never hassled you when _you_ were in your little druggie phase – which, if you remember, _wasn’t_ too long ago. Besides, you know I’m not too into it anyway.”

“Sure. But add this to you fighting a lot more _and_ getting into Rhyme – or whatever that psychedelic mind-fucking game is – you’re into way more trouble than most of my guys are. _Hell_ Aoba – how are you going to go to school when you’re high off hallucinogenic video games and drugs all the time?”

Aoba’s smirk faded, and he answered indifferently, “Actually, I’m pretty sure I’ll be dropping out.”

“What?” Mizuki cringed slightly. “...You serious? Aoba, didn’t you promise you wouldn’t? It’s only one more year...”

“Yeah, one more year I can’t afford. I’m too smart for their shit – you know that. School is just a waste of time, and I have more important things to do.”

Mizuki had gone through years of getting used to Aoba’s new attitude, but he still tried to fight it – trying to keep him out of trouble, somehow. Aoba going to school was one easy way to keep him in check, so if he dropped out, Mizuki knew that he would quickly lose a hold of him. Still, he supposed it couldn’t be helped, and sighed hopelessly.

“I guess. Tae-san is going to be so disappointed though.”

Not dissuaded by Mizuki’s last attempt at winning him over, Aoba looked away disinterestedly. “She’s going to have to deal, then. I could care less.”

Cringing again, Mizuki managed a small, awkward smile. “Whatever you want. Just at least _try_ to not get into too much trouble, okay? I’m still going to check up on you every now and then, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure if I get outnumbered in some fight, you and your little team will come to my rescue. Not that I need the help.”

“I know you don’t need it; just saying… I’ll tell my guys that you’re cool, but I advise you not to get too invested into Rhyme. Seriously, that shit’s ridiculous. You’re gonna fry your brain.”

Turning away already, Aoba waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll do what I want, Mizuki. It’s not like I’ve played that much Rhyme anyway. I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so.”

Aoba sighed as he left, finally away from the bothersome conversation. Of course, over the years he had grudgingly accepted Mizuki as his close friend again, but the other was way too nosy sometimes. As he walked through the alley, Ren wiggled from inside his jacket and spoke up.

“Aoba. I agree with what Mizuki was saying.”

Looking down in mild surprise, Aoba refuted, “Seriously? I thought you liked playing in Rhyme.”

“Oh… Well, yes, I don’t dislike Rhyme. I was referring to what he said about your schooling. Tae-san will be displeased.”

“Oh, that.” Aoba huffed in irritation and looked forward stubbornly. “Well, don’t mind it. It doesn’t matter if she’s displeased. Isn’t it good to be in control of your own life?”

“Yes, I suppose it is…” At that, Ren quieted down in passive agreement. Aoba, however, understood the hidden meaning behind his tone, and looked at him again in annoyance.

“Didn’t I tell you to not talk about that? You’re going to give us an internal paroxysm or something again, I swear...” In the middle of his sentence, a few drops of water plopped on his head, and he looked at the sky in displeasure.

“Raining… Tch, let’s go home. Then you can complain to me about how unfair you think I’m being.” Pulling up his hood, Aoba hurried out into the street, zipping up fully to keep Ren from getting wet.

 

 

As one can imagine, Noiz had gotten closely acquainted with hospitals in his time. He had a few doctors that he saw regularly – the family doctor, that one neurologist, his psychologist… There were also many he saw not-as-frequently, mainly the neurophysiologist and the orthopedist. Since the accident, his pediatrician had also been replaced with a physiatrist, not that he minded. In his eyes, there was barely a difference between all of them. They were all useless – all inspected him thoroughly, and had no reasonable explanation to give his parents. It was rather frustrating for everyone.

Leaving the hospital always gave Noiz a refreshing feeling of liberation, and he sighed in relief as he was driven home without any wheelchair in the trunk for the first time in half a year. As he expected, his coil soon rang to announce an incoming message from Clear, who knew he was going to finally be free of his wheelchair today. He didn’t check to see what the text said, opting to answer later and let Clear wait in anticipation.

Since the accident, his parents had drawn farther and farther away from him, leaving him locked in a certain portion of the house for most of the day. The drives to the hospital or doctor’s office were the only things he looked forward to now, to his dismay, since then he could be outside for a short moment. If he could walk normally, he would’ve definitely tried to run away during these times, but that was a hopeless dream now; he was utterly confined. Throughout the last couple of months, his parents had even confiscated every sharp or potentially harmful object from his room since they found out he’d been injuring himself in attempts to be taken to the hospital more frequently.

That had been only part of his intentions, though; Noiz was also still desperately searching for the feeling of “pain”, which he seemed to be lacking for whatever reason. When he was younger he hadn’t thought of bringing knives or fire to his own skin because it seemed to be a pointless endeavor. Yet, since being confined to his room, this new idea had formed in his mind – the idea that there _had_ to be some sort of special catalyst to help him feel _it_. And so he tried everything he could think of.

Still nothing. He felt even more disheartened with every attempt, but he couldn’t stop. The cycle of splitting his skin and licking the wounds seemed customary now, and he couldn’t escape from it even if he wanted to. He didn’t care that his parents, seeing his new tendencies, had now completely abandoned him, with all their hope lost. If they didn’t care about him, then he wouldn’t care about them – problem solved, right?

As usual, right when he returned home, he was confined to the upper-right wing of the house. After answering Clear’s pestering about his brace, he contemplated simply falling asleep and wasting the rest of the day away; however, before he could, a knock sounded on his door.

“Noiz? Quick, let me in!”

At his brother’s voice, Noiz steadily got up from his bed and opened the door. Louis rushed in, locking the door behind him and stopping to stare in amazement at his leg. They hadn’t seen each other in about a week; in fact, they rarely saw each other ever since Noiz started being confined. So whenever Louis managed to sneak in, Noiz figured he would let him; although Louis cringed in sadness every time he saw burn scars and scratch marks on Noiz’s skin.

“…I’m so glad you can walk now!” Louis announced happily, poking the hard surface of the brace a few times. Noiz bent his leg slightly, hearing the creak it made, and sighed.

Once Louis looked back up to him, though, he frowned. “Noiz… Do you want to go outside? Since you can walk and all, we could go to the park…”

“Lou…”

“Mother and Father aren’t home!”

Huffing again, Noiz nodded slightly. “Fine. You lead the way. Stay out of sight.”

Louis smiled brightly at his answer and nodded, walking out the door. There were a few times through their journey where Louis turned slightly and tried to touch Noiz somehow – hold his hand, steady him if he was walking a weird way – Noiz didn’t know. But every time he tried, Noiz inched farther away. Contact seemed like an even worse idea to him lately; not to mention how he’d always felt weary about being near his brother. He’d probably end up hurting him. Just like everyone else.

Once they were outside, Noiz again tempted the thought of just running away, but seeing the expecting look on his brother’s face, he subsided. Besides, his brother would probably be fast enough to catch him, since he was guaranteed to be a slow walker for at least a couple months. He couldn’t even run, anyway.

“We’re here!” Louis shouted in excitement and raced down the short slope to the empty playground, running to the jungle gym with enthusiasm. As expected, Noiz took a bit more time to get down, but sat on one of the swings as soon as he got there, watching his brother play from afar. He’d only been to this particular playground a few times when he was so much younger, so he barely remembered anything that happened here aside from a couple fights that he’d started with some other kids. Luckily, there was no one here now, so he didn’t have to worry about being seen, but he still didn’t like being there. It brought back strange memories.

For the first few minutes, he settled for resting his leg and watching Louis entertain himself, but soon he noticed another figure approaching. This was someone he recognized – Dorothea, a girl the same age as him, who he’d seen in some of his classes at school before the accident. She had freckles and red hair – a shade too vivid to be natural, he thought. As she approached him slowly, he entertained the idea of just leaving right then.

“Hey. Noiz, right?” He couldn’t leave now, though, since she was already sitting down on the swing beside his. She was looking at him suspiciously, but surprisingly without any fear. Not used to a near-stranger engaging him like this, Noiz took a second before responding emotionlessly.

“Yeah. What do you want?”

She curled her lip in disgust. “Wow, friendly aren’t you? I was just going to ask about your ‘disappearance’, but now I see. Still injured from that infamous motorbike ride you idiots went on?”

At her robust tone, Noiz clenched his teeth and looked her in the eye. “Are you blind? Look at my leg.”

“ _I see it,_ I said. Karsten is fine by now, though, so I didn’t expect you to be messed up so bad.” Noiz still didn’t understand _why_ this girl was trying to make conversation with him, and was about to tell her to piss off, but lost his train of thought when he noticed the small badge on her collar. It was green, in the shape of a cute, cartoon-ish bunny’s head.

“What’s that for?” He pointed at it, interested. Dorothea froze and glimpsed down at it before regarding him with a smirk.

“Oh, this? It’s my badge.”

“…Badge for what?”

“Why do you want to know so much?” Although her retort was defensive, she still had a smug smile on her face. Noiz became quickly annoyed by it.

“Just tell me already. Are you in some sort of girly gang or something?”

“Sort of. It’s not _girly_ , though. This is just our cover. It’s not safe for me to talk about it, though, so stop asking… Unless, that is, you plan on joining us.”

“Who’s _‘us’_?”

Standing up and stretching exaggeratedly, she sighed and replied nonchalantly, “Just some other people. Karsten was wanting to join I think, but he has a lot of things to go through before he can. Maybe you’ll end up joining later. Well, you’re weird as hell, so of course you will.”

With that, she walked away, and Noiz didn’t have enough motivation or interest to inquire her about her little “group” any further. Whatever it was, it wasn’t as if he could participate when he was locked in his room most of the time.

“Noiz! Who was that?” Louis ran up to the swing set, looking worried. Noiz shook his head to calm him and stood up slowly, straightening his leg.

“No one. Are you done?”

“Yeah… let’s go home.”

 

 

Keeping his head down, Clear sighed gloomily while listening to the muffled argument coming from the nearby room. He’d been sitting against the wall next to his grandfather’s closed door for what felt like hours now, and he could barely take it.

It had, in reality, only been twenty minutes when Sen stepped back out of the room again, a displeased look on his face. When he looked to Clear, though, his expression softened.

“He still doesn’t want to go to the hospital?” Clear asked from the floor. He himself had never gone in his entire life, though now the reason why was obvious. Sen and Grandpa usually never went for any checkups either, and Clear was never quite sure why; it just seemed like a normal thing to not go. Sen was scowling now, though.

“No, he doesn’t. I get that it’s something we don’t normally do, but the doctor who visited a few days ago just called me again this morning. He’s pretty certain Dad has ARDS, and wants to do some tests to be certain… If it’s true, he’ll need serious help right away, but he just won’t listen…” Sen ran his hand through his hair in distress, and Clear realized how stressed he must have been. Usually, since he’d become an adult, Sen seemed so confident and secure to Clear, so it was surprising to see him strained.

“…What’s ARDS?” Clear didn’t actually feel like knowing if it was something _really_ bad, but he felt like he had to ask. Grandpa had been coughing and wheezing through his breaths for the past month, and Clear liked to think that it was just a small cold that would pass. But when he couldn’t get out of bed – and when that doctor came for a visit – he started to realize that his optimistic ideal wasn’t likely to be the truth.

Sen answered him with succinct words, “Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. Basically, his lungs have problems; he must’ve had pneumonia for a while now and just tried to hide it best he could...”

“Is he going to be okay?” At Clear’s question, Sen’s face tightened. Clear berated himself for even thinking of asking, but the question had just slipped out.

 “…He needs to stay in bed. If he refuses to be treated properly, then that’s the best we can do. He also said he wanted to talk to you. You should do that now.” With those terse words, Sen walked past Clear slowly. When Clear stood up, however, he stopped short.

“Oh, and tell him I’m sorry for yelling…” Clear still couldn’t see his face, but he sounded overwrought. It didn’t feel right to Clear… He worried his bottom lip anxiously and nodded, but felt flustered once he remembered that Sen couldn’t see him with his back turned.

“I-I will...”

At the affirmation, Sen walked back down the stairs, and Clear sighed while turning to the door. He didn’t want to see Grandpa looking sick, because it would just make him feel sadder... Realizing how selfish his thought was, he shook his head and opened the door. If Grandpa wanted to talk to him, then he _had_ to listen.

To be honest, when he saw his grandfather sitting up in the bed, he didn’t think he looked that deathly. It wasn’t as if he was extremely old, either, so Clear felt more hopeful that perhaps he might be okay. As he sat on the bed, his grandfather smiled at him warmly.

“There you are, Clear. Decided to listen to your old man’s last requests?” He says it with a joking tone, the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy, but Clear’s eyebrows furrow in distress at the wording.

“No, don’t say that Grandpa!” Clear protests childishly, but his grandfather continues laughing softly, patting him on the head. Sighing, Clear subsides and begins to pout.

“Now, don’t give me that face... I’m sure you have a lot of questions still, don’t you?” At his grandfather’s now serious tone, Clear stops pouting and nods.

“Yes.”

“Then I’m sure you know that most of them aren’t for me to answer. You need to go on a journey of your own and grow to understand yourself, as cliché as that sounds. In your case, not many people can help you. I’m not saying that you’re on your own; I just know that you don’t have much to relate to, and you have no idea how sorry I am for that, Clear...”

Clear’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and once his grandfather paused he immediately hugged him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder. He already felt rather frail... Clear chokingly sobbed, “You don’t have to be sorry for anything-! I’m really grateful... for you taking care of me...”

His grandfather chuckled and ruffled his hair again, holding his shoulders while pushing him back gently. No tears had fallen yet, but Clear’s eyes felt a bit watery, and he took a deep breath.

“That’s good. You’ve grown to be a fine young man, Clear. For you to be happy is truly all I can wish for.”

“Oh... Okay. So... Should I stay on the farm, or...?” Clear stuttered out his question softly; it was the first thing that came to mind, and he couldn’t give it any thought. His grandfather blinked in mild surprise.

“Well, of course not if you don’t want to. I’ve already told Sen that if neither he nor you feel like the farm life is your cup of tea anymore, then I have some friends who would be glad to care for the alpacas and keep things running. I didn’t know you were planning on leaving already though, Clear. You _are_ completing school soon, and I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about what you were going to do afterwards, but...”

Clear interrupted his grandfather with uncertainty. “It’s okay. I honestly hadn’t thought about leaving until just now, but... I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it a little more...” It was true; he never liked thinking about what was going to happen to him after school, because his future was so unclear. Not to mention, he’d started feeling sick when Grandpa had started talking as if it was certain that he would... die. Clear didn’t like the way the conversation was leading; the future seemed rather scary right now.

His grandfather seemed satisfied with his answer, though, nodding approvingly. “Alright. I’m confident you’ll be okay. You can take care of yourself, Clear. And Sen is there to help you, okay? He’s already steady enough on his feet that he could probably lend you some money or help you set off somewhere. I know it seems like it’s too early to be thinking about it, but the time is closer than you think.”

“P-Please don’t talk like that, Grandpa...” He was right; it was scary to think about, especially when it was obvious Grandpa would be dead in the future he was talking about. Clear didn’t want to hear it.

Giving a wry smile, his grandfather gave him another pat on the head. “Clear, I know I’ve done some unethical things, but you should know that I have no regrets. Not one. I’m glad that you’re here.”

Clear honestly didn’t know what to say. “...Sen told me to tell you that he apologizes for yelling.” He almost wanted to slap himself for the awkward sentence, but his grandfather didn’t seem perturbed.

“Oh, that boy... I’ll talk to him tonight. Don’t you worry.”

True to his word, Grandpa did talk to Sen later that evening, and when Sen came back to their room he looked completely exhausted. At least he fell asleep quickly though; Clear couldn’t sleep at all. He busied himself with thoughts of what his grandfather had talked to him about – trying not to think about the parts that implied his death being nearby, of course.

Somehow, a realization soon popped into Clear’s head; by planning on leaving the farm, he was sort of following in Koujaku’s footsteps. He smiled in glee at the thought; if Koujaku were here, he would surely be proud of him for thinking about these decisions... Perhaps, if or when he left, he may even find him somewhere! Then again, he was probably back on the island by now with his old friends... Aoba, and who were the others again...? Koujaku never talked about his other old friends as much as he did about Aoba, so Clear couldn’t quite remember.

He was startled from his musings by a short trill from his coil – Noiz messaging him. Realizing he hadn’t talked to Noiz in quite a while, he quickly picked up the device from his nightstand and opened it, the monitor’s light shining brightly in the dark room.

 

[ **Today** 11:23 PM]

**bn_head:** hey you havent bothered me in a while. whats wrong with you.

**fuwafuwa11:** Hi~! Some things have just been happening :( Grandpa is really sick.

**bn_head:** thats too bad.

**fuwafuwa11:** Yeah. I don’t know if he’ll get better. And now I have to think about what I’m going to do, or where I’m going to go... (>_<)

**bn_head:** what do you mean. are you being kicked out?

**fuwafuwa11:** Whaaat? No, silly, I’m officially an ADULT in four months! And then I’m done with school next year... It seems like a long time, but it really isn’t, so I need to prepare I guess (u_u)

**bn_head:** have fun with that.

**fuwafuwa11:** I will :P And aren’t you turning 14 soon? Wow, I’m going to be an adult and you’re barely a teenager! (^_^)

**bn_head:** if by soon you mean half a year then i guess so.

**bn_head:** and thats childish.

**fuwafuwa11:** :P

**fuwafuwa11:** I’ve just known you for a pretty long time, you know? We’re practically brothers!! \\(^u^)/

**bn_head:** i wouldnt say that

**bn_head:** ok i sort of have to go now.

**fuwafuwa11:** Hmm okay~ Bye!

 

Clear was mildly annoyed with their conversation being cut off, but was more elated and touched that Noiz seemed to be worried about him; why else would he contact him on purpose like that to ask about how he was doing? Noiz rarely seemed like he cared about Clear at all, so it was honestly an achievement.

The other boy didn’t contact him again throughout the following week, though, and that week turned out to be one of the worst periods of Clear’s life. His grandfather’s condition grew worse and worse, until one Saturday morning Clear woke up to the sight of Sen’s pale and, surprisingly, tear-stained face.

He wasn’t _that_ oblivious; Clear had known it would happen eventually. At least, with this death, he didn’t cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was decent. I can't believe I've come so far and there's still so much to go @_@
> 
> Oh, and happy April Fool's Day! (I should've made a joke chapter, why didn't I think of that until now)


	10. Chapter 10

“Oi, wake up. Got your painkillers, boss.”

Katsuo sat down as Koujaku raised his head slowly, barely catching the small bottle he tossed to him from across the table. Yawning, Koujaku immediately screwed the cap open and popped two in his mouth, Katsuo grinning at him.

“M’not asleep. And I told you to stop calling me boss.” He mumbled around the pills, shoving another spoonful of cereal in his mouth along with them – barely any milk, just the way he liked it.

“But I’m just preparing for when I become the only employee to your little future hair-dressing business!” Katsuo joked, reaching to poke Beni, who was sleeping in the center of the small dining table. Koujaku frowned.

“You have to actually know how to do hair, smartass... Wait, why am I even talking about this- We’re not _doing_ that-!” Shaking his head to clear his drowsiness, Koujaku tapped his hand on the table to get Katsuo’s attention. “Look, did you find a clear route or what?”

Katsuo regarded him again, this time with formality. “Yes, I did... Can’t believe you woke me up so early just so I could walk all the way up to that creepy club... Anyway, are you sure _today_ is the day, then? Everything’s ready, but still... It’s not even 100% guaranteed this guy is gonna just be there waiting for you, Koujaku-san...” His tone became uneasy with his last sentence, and Koujaku looked down in thought.

“Well, _maybe_ tomorrow... I don’t feel that well today. But if we’ve found a way to get to where those Scratch guys said he was, then I need to get there as quick as possible. For all I know, he could figure out I’m tracking him and leave tonight...”

“But are you sure those guys were reliable? What if they were just telling you the wrong thing...? I mean, I’m starting to hear some things about that gang, and they aren’t good...” Katsuo tilted his head in concern, but Koujaku dismissed his proposal with a wave.

“I’m certain. Just because they’re criminals doesn’t mean they’re incapable of negotiating, Katsuo. I traded them good information; they actually thought it was a pretty unfair deal, and that they should’ve given me more, but I just told them that Ryuuhou’s whereabouts were the best thing anyone could give me...”

“Wait, what?” Katsuo slammed his hands on the table in surprise, startling Beni from his slumber. The alarmed AllMate yelled in irritation, but neither paid attention to him. “You _serious_? I _knew_ you had to have done something to get that information from those guys... If you don’t mind telling me, what did you give them?”

Fidgeting slightly, Koujaku grimaced. “...Well, I guess I’ll...” He sighed, resigning himself to spill it. “Okay, at first I had no idea what I could tell them that would make a fair trade, so I just began proposing things off the top of my head... And when I got to the topic of Clear’s farm – the one he lived on, you know? – they got interested...”

Raising his eyebrow, Katsuo interrupted, “Really? Why would they be interested in that? Wait... You didn’t say anything that could put him in danger, did you...?”

The other sighed, pulling at his bangs slightly. “Well, I... I just hope that he’s out of that place by now; then there won’t be a problem... I mean, he’d be eighteen now, wouldn’t he? Do you think he’s moved somewhere else by now, doing his own thing? He better be, that kid...” Koujaku started mumbling, before Katsuo interrupted him again in a fervor.

“Wait, so you _did_ put him in danger? Koujaku-san...”

Koujaku glared at him. “Alright, alright, look – I didn’t _really._ I didn’t even mention him... Well, I guess I did, but I mentioned his grandfather more because _he’s_ the one who actually owns the farm. They seemed pretty interested; I think they recognized his name. When I said that he had a son and a grandson, they got _really_ interested, and agreed to make it a deal if I told them where the farm was... I don’t know what they’re going to do, but I just hope I didn’t endanger anyone... Then again, wouldn’t be the first time I fucked up someone’s life for good, so I wouldn’t be surprised...” He laughed bitterly, earning a grimace from his friend.

“Okay, stop, Koujaku-san... I can’t imagine why a gang like Scratch would be so interested in Clear’s _grandfather_ of all people, but I hope he’ll be alright... I haven’t talked to Clear in more than a year, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t talked to him since you left, right? So we can’t know for sure...”

Sighing heavily, Koujaku stood up. “Yeah, yeah... _Shit,_ I fucked up.”

Standing up as well, Katsuo raised his voice enthusiastically, trying to strengthen their spirits, “No, you didn’t! I’m sure Clear and his family will be okay; they’ve always been pretty strange, but they’re smart, so I think they can protect themselves just fine! What we need to focus on is getting your guy, and then maybe going to your island, right?”

Koujaku smiled at his comrade’s little speech; throughout the years they’d lived and traveled together, Katsuo always tried his best to cheer him up whenever he lost Ryuuhou’s trail or just had a decline in mood – which were both regularly occurring occasions. He truly appreciated it, even if it didn’t work all the time.

It had been approximately four years since they left their homes to travel – looking for Ryuuhou most of the time, but also working a few odd jobs to support themselves and meeting many people along the way. Koujaku, to Katsuo’s surprise and eventual mirth, had taken up a hobby of hairstyling. While he didn’t imagine himself being a professional hairdresser in the future, Katsuo could definitely see it happening once he got out of his “nothing-else-matters-but-killing-Ryuuhou” phase.

The two had been living in their current apartment for five months now – ever since Koujaku had heard from a few acquaintances that the gang “Scratch” was making its home in this city. It was rumored that the gang knew the whereabouts of any “underground or illegal celebrities”; Koujaku figured that the legendary and talented tattoo artist would fall under that category, and he was right. Ryuuhou was well known in the body modification industry, it seemed.

And here he was. So close he could almost taste it. He shuddered to think of what he would do – or how he would feel – after the fact, but all he cared about at the moment was putting his demons to rest in any way he could. Katsuo had said before that he thought it wouldn’t work this way – killing Ryuuhou would do nothing to help his sanity – but Koujaku didn’t take his words to heart. After all, although their friendship always came first, it was obvious that Katsuo saw Koujaku as his superior. Koujaku was awkward about that arrangement at first, but as they relaxed into their routine and respective roles, he grew to be flattered by it.

He let out a slow breath in serenity, thinking about how far they’d come, when he noticed how Katsuo was still waiting for a response to his speech. Koujaku smiled. “Sure... You’re right. Thanks for reminding me, too; I can’t afford to wait until tomorrow. I’m going tonight.”

At his reply, Katsuo closed his eyes in glee and nodded. “Whatever you say, boss!”

“...And don’t say ‘getting your guy’. It sounds weird.”

 

 

The car ride to the cemetery was spent mostly in silence, save for Clear humming a tune every so often – a habit he’d always had. Sen, surprisingly, didn’t shush him like he usually would; he simply kept his eyes on the road.

They were not driving to make a visit to Grandpa’s grave; _that_ ceremony had passed _months_ ago by now. Unlike the last funeral Clear had been to, it wasn’t raining on the day his grandfather was buried, but it’d still been freezing cold. There were many people that came; Clear’s grandfather had been a well-respected man of the community, despite the secrets that he’d kept. Everyone remembered him fondly, and although Clear knew Sen lamented that he could’ve been saved if he’d just gone to the hospital, Clear was glad that he’d died peacefully in his sleep instead of in pain.

Truth be told, Clear couldn’t understand death as much as a person his age was likely expected to. It made sense that he couldn’t, though, since he didn’t even know if he was capable of experiencing it; he wasn’t human. Thus, graveyards gave him a strange feeling, but interested him more than anything. Multiple times since the funeral, he’d already gone to visit his grandfather’s grave again. He’d tried talking to him as well – just telling him how things have been without him – but always felt silly since there really wasn’t anyone there.

Although Clear wasn’t extremely sad about their loss anymore, he could tell that Sen was hit much harder. It was surprising, since Sen never seemed to have a very close relationship with his own father, but Clear saw that he was suffering because of the death. He’d lost the much of passion and cynicism that he’d had before, and had become much more subdued. The only good part of it was that at least now he was easier to talk to; perhaps it was simply because Clear was his only family left now, but he seemed to open up to him a lot more. Sen had spilled to him after the funeral that the reason he and his father had been quarreling so much was because of _that_ man – the man that essentially created Clear.

Apparently, the man’s institution had been trying to contact Grandpa so they could do further research – possibly even more on Clear himself. Grandpa ignored them, though. Eventually, Sen started working under his “company” – for what reason, he wouldn’t tell Clear – and Grandpa was very angry with him. Evidently, he wanted nothing more to do with the man that had helped bring his son back to life. Sen explained that he wasn’t sure why; it could’ve been the case that Grandpa was angry about the “failure” that Clear turned out to be, or maybe they just had some sort of falling out. Whatever the reason, Grandpa wanted Sen to have nothing to do with the institution; Sen didn’t listen, though. He kept going on those “business trips”, and he even now was still employed by him. No matter how much Clear insisted, Sen wouldn’t tell him any more about the institution, nor give him any clues on how to meet _the man_ himself. Hell, he didn’t even tell Clear the man’s name.

Clear still wanted to know more, but he opted to let Sen keep his secrets. It would be wrong to push him, especially since he was mourning. Even now, Clear was hesitant to talk to him, the silence within the car too thick to break. The matter of their visit to the cemetery was a sensitive business as well, making Clear more anxious by the minute.

Today they were going to see Clear’s grave – the place where his original, dead body was resting.

It was pretty scary, but Clear had been the one to suggest it in the first place. He wanted to go; maybe it would give him a better understanding on what death was like? There was only so much Sen could teach him, and no matter how hard he tried to explain, Clear couldn’t quite comprehend. Abstract concepts were tough to put into words, he guessed.

Sen hadn’t been to Clear’s old grave for _many_ years as well, so he accepted the idea with little protest. Clear wasn’t sure what exactly they would do there, but it was worth a shot.

Even as they’d arrived and Clear was following Sen to the grave, both stayed silent. As Sen approached a medium-sized gravestone ornamented with a small cherub sculpture, Clear found himself confused, at first not believing that _this_ was _his_. He’d expected something more modest; sure, it wasn’t _that_ big compared to some of the others, but the sculpture made it stand out. Clear had expected his to be less noticeable.

Sen stopped at the edge of the grave, sighing as he glanced down at the aged, wilted flowers placed on the ground. Clear thought of nothing else to do but kneel down to read the etchings. All that was written was his name, how long he’d lived, and that he was a beloved son, brother, and friend. No particularly special message – it was just the usual.

To Clear, though, everything was extraordinary. Still kneeling in awe, he whispered, “...Um. Who put those flowers there?” He blinked in surprise at how raspy and cracked his voice seemed.

“...Well, they aren’t the ones from the actual funeral, I think... _Those_ would’ve already been cleaned out by now. I think these are from some of your old friends... I believe I heard that they came here after their graduation to pay their last respects before they went to college. These flowers could even be a decade old, then.” Sen laughed hoarsely. He sounded sad.

Although he hadn’t thought about it, Clear realized that it did make sense. No one other than his family knew about him “coming back to life”, so of course the friends he had when he was human would still visit his grave, believing him to be gone... Wait.

He raised his head with a start, looking to Sen, who was frowning thoughtfully. “So... I had friends? They still visit here? What were they like?”

At the eager questions, Sen tried to smile. “Well, they were _your_ friends, so I never really knew that much about them... I remember them at your funeral, though. They all thought very highly of you. You were pretty popular back in the day. I’m sure your closest friends were the ones who kept coming back here to pay their respects; the last time they came must have been years ago, though. By now, all your friends would probably be around... twenty-seven? Maybe...”

Staring at him in awe as he spoke, Clear couldn’t think of anything to say. It was a lot to take in... The fact that people he didn’t even know still thought about him – still managed to get flowers for him after all that time... Well, it wasn’t really _him_ they were paying respects to, he supposed. And perhaps by now they didn’t think about their dead friend anymore; some of them probably had families and kids of their own by now. Still, though, the knowledge was overwhelming. Clear was eager to take it in.

“...What was I like, back then? Tell me.”

Looking off into the distance as if remembering something, Sen spoke carefully, “Well, as I said, you were very popular. And outgoing. I was sort of jealous, actually; everyone liked you. I think you were just average at your academics, but you were extremely artistic and musical. You were simply fun to be around, and you seemed so happy... Which is why it was so weird to find you like-” Sen stopped dead, wincing and continuing more softly, “...I mean, no one ever realized anything. You hid it so well, I guess. I’m still so sorry for not noticing. We all were, I suppose.”

The topic of his suicide made Clear feel strange; it wasn’t as if he remembered anything... But he still wanted to know. He felt like he was obligated to hear it for himself. “Did I leave... a note or anything?”

“No. Nothing... Well, actually, the police found a note in our room on your bedside table. I think they did classify it as a suicide note, even though they determined that you wrote it just a week before the day you died.” Sen looked hesitant, and Clear felt bad for pushing, but he couldn’t just leave it.

“What did it say?”

“Just... All it said was that... Your life was full of regrets and that you spent all of it lying to people... And that you felt... Ashamed? I can’t remember exactly what it said... It seemed more like a little diary entry – like it wasn’t meant to be read by anyone, since it wasn’t addressed to any specific person... But it was still deemed your suicide note.”

“...Why would I write that?” Clear pleaded in confusion.

Sen took a deep breath, exhaling harshly. “I don’t know... You wrote it a week before you hung yourself too, so... It was all just sort of a mystery. None of your close friends knew the reason, either... Well, I think one of them suspected that you were doing drugs or something, but the police searched practically everywhere and didn’t find anything... So, it will always be a mystery.”

Finally standing up slowly, Clear reached out for the sleeve of Sen’s jacket. He desperately wished that he could somehow remember his life – remember _why_ he’d killed himself, _why_ he wrote that note... But obviously, he couldn’t do that. As Sen tentatively wrapped his arm around his shoulder, Clear turned to hug him instead.

“I’m sorry... I wish I could remember, really... You were probably so sad, I know, I... And everyone...” Clear, distressed, didn’t know how to explain himself, but Sen patted his head.

“It’s okay, Clear. I’m the one who’s sorry – for not realizing, I mean... And at least you’re here now.”

Clear cut him off, pulling away. “But I’m _not_ him-! I mean... I don’t feel like this person...” He glanced to the grave again in worry. “Like what you said before, about them creating me wrong... It doesn’t seem like I’m the same person who you’re talking about. I still can’t believe it...”

“I know. You’re right; you aren’t him. Which is why you don’t have to worry. You don’t have to be held down by this. It’s not your responsibility to remember what happened. And, even though I don’t show it...” He sighed, closing his eyes in slightly irritated apprehension. “I love you just as much as I loved him... Okay?”

Eyes widening, Clear looked to Sen in surprise. He’d never heard him say anything like that before... “You really mean it?” He asked with eagerness, edging closer.

Huffing, Sen replied with feigned indifference, “Guess so...”

Grinning wildly, Clear leapt and hugged him again, the other grunting in annoyance before half-heartedly returning the embrace. Clear knew he was happy, though; he could almost sense it.

When they separated, Clear stared at the grave for a few more seconds in silence before asking, “How do you feel about being back here?”

Sen started at the question, rubbing the back of his head. “...It’s just strange. I haven’t been here since...” He trailed off, grimacing, before turning back to Clear, emotionless. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Despite the circumstances, Clear giggled slightly. “I’m okay. Maybe that’s just because I still can’t believe it, though...”

Turning around abruptly, the older loudly sighed. “Well, when it finally sinks in once you’re staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night, at least _try_ to not wake me up.” With that comment, he casually walked back to the entrance of the cemetery, leaving Clear to trail after him.

“I won’t, promise! ...Wait, will we ever come back here?”

“You can come back whenever you want.”

“Okay...”

During the ride back home, Clear was much more talkative. Although the subject of their trip was delicate – and he still felt confused on the inside – he thought the visit was a success. Sen even seemed to be in a better mood as well, even when he became annoyed at Clear’s constant exclamations.

“We can stop at the convenience store on the way home, right? I want some Taiyaki!”

Sen exhaled loudly, keeping his eyes on the road. “You _do_ know the convenience store is out of the way for us, right? And is that what you plan on having for dinner? Clear, you need to learn to cook actual meals instead of just eating snacks all day; you’re not going to survive on your own if you live off Dango and instant ramen.”

Pouting, Clear retorted, “I _do_ know how to cook! When you left on all your business trips or whatever, I learned! I’m really good at it. Sure, I haven’t made anything in a while, but...”

“Okay, okay.”

The mention at him living on his own got Clear thinking, though. He and Sen hadn’t talked about the matter since Grandpa’s death; there was simply too much commotion, and Clear felt that Sen was too depressed to think about the future. Clear had graduated already, though... He knew that Grandpa would’ve wanted him to already have everything figured out by now. Guilt ate at him, urging him to bring up the topic.

“Um... Speaking of me living on my own, how are we going to do that? What do you think I should do? ...And, uh, who’s going to take care of the farm and the house when we’re both living somewhere else?”

At first, Clear thought that Sen simply wouldn’t respond, but the other eventually gave him a reluctant answer. “Don’t worry about the farm or the house; that’s already been taken care of, evidently. There are people Dad contacted ahead of time that were willing to help us with it... And, honestly Clear, you can do whatever you want. I have no concerns. You’re smart enough to make it on your own.”

Sen’s tone was dismissive; he clearly no longer wanted to talk about it. Clear was insistent, though.

“Are you sure? I can do... _whatever I want?_ ”

“Yes. I’m not dumb, Clear. I notice things.”

When Clear first heard that response, he was confused, but later he realized what Sen had meant. Since Grandpa’s death, Clear was no longer nearly as afraid or uncertain of leaving as he was previously; in fact, he was always eagerly anticipating when he and Sen would plan things out. To learn that planning wasn’t necessarily _needed_ was exciting for him, and Sen knew that; he’d seen how raring Clear was to travel somewhere else.

Maybe that’s why, when he woke up a couple weeks later to find Clear missing without any trace or explanation, he wasn’t too surprised. That didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off, though.

 

 

Once Noiz was well into his fourteenth year of life, it was obvious that his parents no longer cared for him at all. Half of the time he was caged in his room, yes – but the other half, he was able to sneak out without any resistance. He’d been seen many times during the act, he was certain; however, no one must have cared enough to stop him.

This should’ve provided the perfect escape for him; the only problem was the fact that he couldn’t run, and he had nowhere to go. He couldn’t leave while he was still a minor; his parents would track him down by any means and probably punish him severely. It would dirty their reputation even more for their eldest and incapacitated son to run away from home.

Noiz desperately wanted to leave, but since he couldn’t, he settled for rebelling as much as he possibly could. He’d given himself multiple ear piercings already – something his parents had always said they could never tolerate. He’d also discovered an interesting gaming system called Rhyme – only interesting to him because it was rumored that you could actually _feel_ the pain of fighting your opponent. Noiz yearned to try it out, but he needed an AllMate to play, and he’d never had a chance to buy one. All he could do was try to make his own; he was skilled enough with technology, so he thought he could give it a shot. He had more than enough free time to do so. It was proving to be difficult, though, especially when all he had to work with was scrap metal and blocks.

One night, as he was working tediously, he was interrupted by a text from Karsten. The two hadn’t talked in what felt like a year, leading Noiz to reluctantly answer – it had to be important, surely.

It wasn’t nearly as important as he thought it would be; all Karsten wanted to talk about was the “gang” he’d joined. Noiz faintly registered in his mind that it must’ve been the same group Dorothea was in; Karsten flaunted about all the “bad” things he’d gotten into, and how much fun it was to do drugs and commit petty crimes. Although Noiz rolled his eyes every other line of text, he felt himself becoming more and more fascinated. These were just the kinds of activities he was looking for – anything to make him feel less caged in, right?

Noticing his vaguely interested responses, Karsten eagerly volunteered that Noiz could come and “hang with them for a while” – maybe become part of the group. Noiz was put off by how keen Karsten seemed to make him a member, especially when he wouldn’t even tell him the gang’s name, but he eventually agreed to meet with them the next day.

Sure, being in such close contact with other humans would be bothersome, but some debauchery was just what Noiz needed.

That’s why, when the next day finally came, he was more than ready. He escaped into the city with no problem, and followed the directions Karsten sent to their “regular spot” – a disgusting, dark alleyway that had probably seen more than a few murders in its time. Noiz felt out of place just being there, but put on his emotionless expression when he met with the others.

They were all older than him; he, Dorothea, and Karsten were obviously the youngest. It was also obvious what kind of people they were – delinquents, just how Noiz was labeled. Two of the oldest boys, seventeen-year-olds named Emile and Leon, explained to him the gist of the group. They had no name, but were dubbed simply “Rabbits” by other various gangs, due to their badges. The idea of the badges was apparently thought up by Emile’s girlfriend Aleida, since she loved rabbits – of course, this had _nothing_ to do with the fact that many of the females in the group tended to dress in bunny ears and provocative clothing. Noiz wasn’t sure where that had come from, but didn’t think much of it.

All they were there to do was “have fun and go against the rules”; they didn’t give a shit about who Noiz was or where he came from. This was definitely something he could appreciate, and Noiz found himself warming up to the others quickly, even though he didn’t project any of that outwardly. Eventually, one of the girls suggested that he be “initiated”; the others agreed, although dispassionately, and Noiz soon found himself stealing a few six-packs of beer from the liquor store across the street.

He’d thought to himself that it seemed too easy; he succeeded without any complications, of course. Afterwards, though, Leon told him that usually the initiation was much more difficult; they just wanted to go easy on him because of his age and the fact that he was “disabled”.

“Disabled.”

What-the-fuck-ever.

Yes, he had noticed the leering way the others had looked at him. It made him uncomfortable. But the activities in the group still seemed fun to him, so he didn’t care; he was a member now. What else mattered?

 

 

Warmth from the sun creeping its way across his face, Clear mumbled angrily and rolled over on the bed, being careful not to fall off. The nights since he left home had been terrible; he loved all the hotels he’d stayed at – it was always exciting to him – but he hadn’t been able to sleep a wink. It didn’t really matter, since he never lost energy anyway as long as he ate something, but it was excruciatingly annoying to only be able to stare at the ceiling all night.

Maybe he would start simply not booking hotel rooms, and being mobile full time. He could bike during the night too, couldn’t he? The only thing stopping him was his fear of being mugged or jumped; he had to hold on to what little possessions he carried, after all.

Since leaving, Clear had ignored any attempts Sen had made at contacting him via coil; hopefully, the other would get the message that he had to get away from everything he once knew. He loved Sen like a brother, sure, but talking to him would just remind him of all the thoughts that constantly threatened to destroy his sanity. Not that his sanity wasn’t being destroyed as it is...

Yet another reason why he needed to be occupied during the night: he thought _way_ too much.

Clear had tried to text Noiz about his newly nomadic living arrangements, hoping to get some feedback or advice from his admittedly smarter friend; however, the other would never answer. It worried Clear, but he knew that Noiz sometimes went through periods of never responding to him, so he hoped it would pass soon.

Because honestly, he was getting lonely. It had only been a week of living on his own, and he was already feeling more desolate than usual. He hadn’t traveled very far; he was still out in the country, although there were a few more people and buildings as he biked on. It was peaceful, and he enjoyed the scenery, but he was becoming more concerned about _where_ exactly he was going.

To be frank, he had no idea, and it was very daunting. More and more, he found himself wishing that he could know where Koujaku was... Surely, he would be able to help him.

 

 

“It’s _so_ nice to see you again, Koujaku.”

_That_ voice – the same one he’d heard in his head so many times. Here it was again. Only now, it was in front of him, grinning at him with hungry teeth.

The anger inside him was so intense, he could barely speak, settling for glaring at the other man with extreme passion. Heat, from inside, coiled itself around his arm – across his face – and he felt nothing but the _hate_.

_“Come and kill me._ I know you want to kill me. So go ahead; it’s an honor. My greatest dream... _”_

It was almost funny how his opponent seemed to take pleasure in it; he should be running away and screaming for mercy by now, Koujaku had thought. But no. In fact, he didn’t hesitate to come even closer, bringing his cold hand to Koujaku’s heated face.

Just as freezing as before – the coolness burned, but he was unable to flinch away from it.

“My most beautiful creation. I _knew_ you would come back to me. Just where you belong...”

The kisses, placed over his inked skin, gave him frostbite.

The touches iced over his back, making growls of distress involuntarily escape his throat.

Why wasn’t he fighting? Why was he letting him do this? Why didn’t he just kill him now? _Why?_

“...You _need_ me, _Koujaku_.”

That’s it.

With an enraged roar, it was over, but Koujaku didn’t know when it had started.

When he returned to the apartment, blood was splattered all over his clothes, and Katsuo immediately helped him fall asleep, not asking questions.

“I...”

“Koujaku-san.”

“I killed him.”

“...I know.”

“I killed him.”

“Koujaku-san, go to sleep.”

 

That night, he saw her in his dreams.

_“Mom, are you proud of me?”_

_“...”_

_“...Of course you aren’t.”_

Yes, that night was a terrible mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached double-digits! I'm pretty stoked, not gonna lie. And thanks to everyone for making it with me this far!
> 
> Also, this following week, updates may be a bit sparse, but that's just because I have a shit-ton of other work... So if there isn't any progress, then that's the reason. I'll try my best, though.
> 
> ...Has anyone noticed how much I love the Benishigure dog-loving guy. Damn. He should get his own game.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that week of absence. Chapters _might_ be a bit slower to put up from now on, but I'm still trying my best! Well here's the longest one yet so I hope that makes up for it.
> 
> Also I was busy making [this here Noiz fanmix](http://8tracks.com/styelrose/iolent-outh) which is actually fairly relevant since this entire chapter is about him.
> 
> This gets pretty (how do I put this) gruesome so~ Well this is just a reminder to check the tags. Also changing the rating to E because this is only the beginning.

Noiz believed that joining the “Rabbits” had been his first step to true freedom; whether that was true or not, it was hard to say. Without a doubt, being a part of the group was the first time he’d experienced acceptance, but since _when_ was acceptance such a good thing in the first place? When he was locked in his room, he desperately yearned for acceptance and human contact, but once he finally achieved it, he found himself repulsed by it.

Why had he wanted to be accepted so much in the first place? Was this what “acceptance” really felt like – being surrounded by a bunch of teenagers just as disgusting and heartless as himself? If it was, he didn’t understand why people thought it was such a good thing.

Nevertheless, by the time he turned fifteen and summer had begun, he’d gotten to know the “Rabbits” pretty well. The pecking order was obvious, at least; Emile and Leon at the top along with their “girlfriends”, then the younger kids – including Karsten, Dorothea, and Noiz himself – at the bottom, and everyone else jumbled in the middle. There weren’t _that_ many members – definitely less than twenty – but suffice to say, everyone knew their “place”.

Predictably, Noiz gravitated towards Karsten and Dorothea most of the time; they were the same age, after all, so the three usually stuck around each other instead of approaching the older kids. Noiz wouldn’t say that they were friends, but he did spend a large amount of time with them, and he was now more or less accustomed to their outspoken natures. Both of them were too loud and brash – not the kind of people he would usually be willing to hang around, but if he had to, then so be it.

He’d also spent some more time with Emile’s “girlfriend” – Aleida, who was going on eighteen. She seemed fairly nice to Noiz – or at least, nicer than the others – but seemed to only talk about how she’d been in a “committed relationship” with Emile for five years now. Noiz didn’t really get the appeal, but he wasn’t _that_ annoyed by her nonstop talk; she was one of the only kids who hadn’t made some scathing comment about his brace or his growing plethora of facial piercings, so he forced himself to give her respect.

Leon also had a few “girlfriends”, although whenever one talked to Noiz, they all told him that they weren’t _really_ dating Leon. Since joining the group, Noiz had heard a lot about things like casual sex, so he wasn’t surprised. He feigned disinterest, but since hearing about these things, he was actually a little curious; drugs and sex were complete wastes of time, sure, but they beat staying in his room.

Who knew – perhaps there was even some sort of drug that could help him feel? Whenever he asked to try, though, the older teenagers would always laugh at him. Some would even blow smoke directly into his face; he resisted the urge to punch them.

It wasn’t their teasing and insults that made him feel left out, though; he was already used to being disrespected. It was only when they would talk about schoolwork that he’d feel isolated; as far as he knew, he was the only one being homeschooled... If you could even call it that; he had his tutors, but he finished all the work quickly enough that he was still left with ample amounts of free time. Since his parents had completely given up on him, he was able to sneak out more and more. Once the summer holiday began, he was glad that everyone else had as much free time as he did.

Noiz knew that Louis was expecting to be able to see him _more_ over the summer holiday, though. While Noiz’s parents didn’t care at all about his safety, they almost cared _too_ much about Lou’s, and would constantly keep him under their watch during schooldays. Unfortunately for Louis, Noiz planned to sneak out even more frequently during the summer, so they would be lucky to even catch a glance of each other.

During the first gang meeting of the summer, Noiz was sporting piercings in both ears, eyebrows, and even in his navel. All of them he’d done himself; since his first, he’d learned the proper way to sterilize. Pushing random tacks and pins into his skin, while being a way to pass the time, was just opening the door wide for infections. Dorothea found amusement in his body modification escapades, and immediately when he showed up, asked to see any new ones. Karsten, on the other hand, would always stick his tongue out in disgust.

“Hey, Noiz~!” Within a half-hour of him being there, Aleida called out to him, and he figured he might as well see what she wanted. As he approached her and Emile, her smile grew, and even Emile smirked slightly.

“What?”

At Noiz’s emotionless tone, Aleida laughed softly and ruffled his hair. “Lighten up a little, will you?”

He immediately grimaced and flinched away. Noticing, she yielded and continued, “Just wanted to chat. Your little brother just finished primary school, huh?”

“Yeah...” Noiz answered in suspicion; no one here _ever_ talked about his brother. They knew his parents were rich, and talked about _them_ often, but he didn’t know how anyone would know about Louis.

“Just as I thought! My sister is friends with him, I’m pretty sure. Anyway, she was talking to me yesterday about those cats of his. They sound _so_ adorable!” She squealed in excitement, the bunny ears on top of her head bouncing slightly. Noiz frowned.

“So...?” He had no idea where she was going with this.

“She likes cats, idiot. Get her one.” Emile butted in from her side, still smirking at him. Aleida quickly spoke up after him.

“No, I don’t want one _bought_ or anything! I meant that I want to see the ones your brother has! Just one of them! You can bring one here for me to play with, right?” She grinned expectantly, leaning forward, and Noiz scowled.

“Uh... What if I can’t?” If he was caught doing this, he didn’t even want to think about what would happen. He hadn’t even seen those kittens in maybe a _year_ ; he’d completely forgotten they even existed!

“Hey.” Emile spoke in an authoritative tone. “You’re going to bring her a fucking cat. Okay?”

Being ordered around made him feel sick, but Noiz hadn’t messed up with anyone yet, so he didn’t want to push his chances. He didn’t like the idea of being completely submissive either, so he turned away from them resolutely as he answered, “Yeah, whatever. I’ll do it.”

“...Good, then.”

And Noiz did – the next morning, right before Louis usually woke up. Sneaking into his brother’s room took little effort, but once he entered, he stopped himself. He hadn’t been inside his brother’s bedroom in years; whenever they saw each other, it was always Louis who would come to _his_ room.  The only real difference between this room and his own room, however, was the color scheme; both were still large with plenty of space. As Noiz looked around, he spotted a pile of fancy cushions which served as the cats’ bed, and stepped over to it, trying to make as little noise as possible.

The two cats were sleeping curled up beside each other; not too big and not too small, each with a fine coat of white fur. One had a few small spots of black on top of its head, so Noiz gingerly picked that one up, disturbing it from its sleep. He thought it would meow in protest, but it thankfully stayed silent, settling lazily into his arms – just big enough to fit perfectly. Ignoring how the creature reminded him of that bunny he’d killed long ago, Noiz made his way outside before anyone could spot him.

Aleida had told him to meet in the small field a few blocks out from their usual spot; she said it was the perfect place to play with the cat, and no one usually came there. Throughout his walk to the area, he expected the cat to try and run away, but it simply stayed resting in his arms. Eventually seeing a few figures in the distance, he strode across the shortly-cut grass to meet them – there was only Aleida, Emile, and a few other members, including Dorothea.

“Oh, I’m _so_ glad you brought it! Let me see!” Before he knew it, the bundle of fur was snatched from his arms, and Aleida brought it to her face, rubbing her forehead against the cat’s own. “ _So_ cute~! Just like I thought you would be~!”

At first, Noiz didn’t mind it; everyone sat on the field and let the cat roam free, watching it as it chased bugs and pounced on fluttering blades of grass. There were a few kids passing around drugs in the background, but it was such a common occurrence that no one thought anything of it. After an hour of play, though, Aleida did something Noiz didn’t expect.

“...This is getting sort of boring. Emile, love, give me your lighter for a sec~.” At her request, he tossed the small lighter to her, and she caught it with ease.

“What are you going to do with that?” Dorothea asked from beside Noiz, staring eagerly.

“Just a cool trick. Have you ever heard that story about setting a cat’s tail on fire? It’s supposed to go totally _insane_. Oh, this is going to be so fun!” She grinned in delight, drawing near to the cat and holding it still. Noiz immediately froze.

“You’re kidding...” He mumbled under his breath, not sure what to do. Dorothea heard him, but only looked on in excitement.

It happened too quickly for him to even react properly; Aleida lit the tip of the cat’s tail, and the creature promptly yowled in terror, running aimlessly in circles. It was so fast that Noiz could barely catch sight of it, and the rest of the teenagers chortled in amusement.

“Wow!” Dorothea gaped from beside him, standing up. “I’m gonna try and catch it!”

“Wait...” Noiz honestly didn’t know what to do. He knew by now he’d made the wrong choice of bringing the cat here, but what could he do now? It had already happened.

Everyone laughed as Dorothea and Aleida gleefully chased the flaming cat, trying to catch ahold of it. Eventually, some of the field caught on fire, leading Emile to immediately stomp it out and step in, grabbing the cat harshly.

“Okay, that’s that...” He grunted, snatching a water bottle from the boy next to him and dumping it on the yowling cat. Noiz’s heart dropped when he saw its seared fur, once white and now turned a hideous gray color. The cat hissed in pain, shaking and wriggling to get away from Emile’s grip.

“Ugh... Someone take care of this thing...” He tossed the feline to the boy next to him, who freaked out and grabbed its limbs to avoid its claws.

“Oh, I’m sure Noiz could _take care_ of it. Did you hear about that time he _took care_ of that bunny rabbit some years back?” Dorothea piped up cheekily, grinning at Noiz, who paled. He didn’t know that she knew about that... How did she find out? How...

“Huh? I wanna know~!” Aleida called out, coming closer. Noiz glared at both of them.

“Shut _up_. It’s none of your business. How do you know about that?” He turned to Dorothea angrily, standing up. This situation was just getting worse and worse... By now, everyone was staring at him, and he felt like just running away.

“Oh, I have my ways.” Dorothea grinned smugly and, with her hands on her hips, came closer to Noiz, showing no fear. “You getting nervous? Why? It’s pretty _cool_ what you did.”

Cool...?

In the end, the cat ran away with its singed tail; Noiz decided he would take even greater measures to avoid his brother from now on. Dorothea didn’t tell any of the others about what he’d done before – except for Emile and Leon, of course, since they _had_ to know everything. Noiz felt rather anxious about it, but it didn’t appear that the older boys cared at all about the gory and highly exaggerated story.

Although it wasn’t Dorothea’s intention, her praise kept on playing through Noiz’s head for the remainder of the day. He still felt weird about that bunny; every time he thought about it, he felt like he was going to puke. But whenever the others showed signs of accepting him, he couldn’t just ignore them. He still told himself that the idea of wanting other people to like you was dumb, but deep down, it was what he yearned for most.

A few hours after he’d returned home, as what had happened was just sinking into his numbed brain, his mother came to speak with him for the first time in months. She spoke coldly and bluntly; just as he’d expected, she blamed him for the cat’s disappearance. Noiz barely spoke during their meeting, and when it was over, he was dragged to a different part of the house. In a guest room with no windows, he was to be contained for a week. It felt like years.

He was given food, of course, and there was a bathroom connected to the bedroom, but he spent most of his time screaming or doing absolutely nothing. At first, he used the time to catch up with Clear, who he hadn’t talked to in quite a while. He learned of Clear’s little journey outside his farm, and although it was sort of comforting to have interaction with another human being, Noiz ended up growing tired of it within a day. Especially when Clear would ask him how he was doing, and he couldn’t answer.

When he was finally let out and put back in his own room, his fingers were bloodied from scratching at the door. His parents surely saw, but they did nothing; they hadn’t bothered with his health since... a long time. They were probably waiting for him to die at this point, he thought.

After that traumatizing week, Noiz was hesitant about meeting with the gang again. He ignored all of Dorothea and Karsten’s texts, unsure of how to answer, and was caught within uncertainty and melancholy until a few days later.

While he was in the middle of constructing his AllMate – which was coming along quite nicely – there was a knock on his door. To say the least, he was surprised; the maids or his tutors never bothered with knocking, unfortunately. Hesitantly, he opened the door, and saw Louis standing there, looking down nervously with his hands behind his back.

Noiz had told himself that he would avoid his brother as much as possible from then on, but since his punishment, he honestly thought it didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t just tell his brother to leave, either. So, Louis ran in immediately, and Noiz shut the door, making sure no one else was around to eavesdrop.

“H-Hi, Noiz...” Louis mumbled uneasily, his hands still behind his back. Noiz thought of offering him to sit down, but decided against it.

“...What do you have there?” Maybe he was being insensitive; it was obvious that he should’ve been apologizing for stealing away one of his cats. But right now, Noiz couldn’t function correctly.

“Oh...” His brother’s face turned red as he fidgeted slightly, bringing his hands in front of him. Noiz’s eyebrows raised; he was holding a green, black, and white chullo hat that looked a bit too big for him. Louis stumbled on his words as he spoke, holding the hat towards Noiz.

“I just haven’t seen you in a while... and, uh... I g-got this for you. Sorry it’s sort of big, but it kind of reminded me of you- I mean...! ...Do you like it?” Louis was looking away from Noiz the whole time, but after getting no reaction, he hesitantly looked to his older brother.

Surprisingly, Noiz was staring at the hat with wide eyes, his hands wavering in front of him as if he wasn’t sure what to do. After a few moments without Louis getting an answer, Noiz blinked and met his eyes.

“Ah... I... like it. I guess.” His voice quickly turned monotone as he regained composure, grabbing the hat from Louis and inspecting it. It actually wasn’t _that_ big, and definitely looked like something he’d like to wear. His heart felt weird when he looked to his brother again; Louis seemed like he was about to cry, and Noiz started panicking, but he realized that on his brother’s face was just a worried and expectant look. Noiz cleared his throat.

“...About me stealing your cat... I...”

Shit. He hadn’t planned to bring that up so abruptly; it just came out, and now he didn’t know where to go with it. Seeing the horrified look on his brother’s face, Noiz realized his tone of voice probably didn’t sound gentle enough either. Shit.

“That was you?” Louis asked shakily, looking down in remorse. Shit.

“I... I thought mother and father told you it was me...” Noiz was almost about to tell his brother to leave right then; everything had just gone so terribly. What was the point in trying to rectify it anymore?

However, Louis looked back up in determination. “They did...! I just didn’t actually believe them... They _always_ blame everything on you, so I thought...” His eyes grew sorrowful again, and Noiz internally grimaced.

“Well, it was really me this time...” Noiz paused, and with no further reaction, he continued, “...S-Sorry.”

Shit. Why was that so hard to say? He hadn’t apologized for anything in such a long time... It felt so awkward.

Seconds passed in silence, and Noiz shut his eyes in defeat; this was just awful. He should’ve known he could never be a good big brother...

Feeling something touch him, Noiz opened his eyes in shock and looked down. Louis was hugging him. His small arms slowly circled around his torso and squeezed tightly. It was warm and scary, but Noiz felt a small spark of happiness in his chest.

“...I forgive you.” He couldn’t see his brother’s face, but his voice didn’t sound as sad as he thought it would be. Still shocked, he could barely take the words in as it was.

After a minute of Louis hugging him, while he stayed as stiff as a board, Louis pulled away surprisingly fast and looked up at him in guilt. It seemed that he’d remembered Noiz’s phobia of human contact, and looked down before rushing out of the room with only one mumbled word.

“Sorry...”

Noiz didn’t do anything much for the rest of the day; he stood there, tried on his new hat, listened to music for a few hours, and then fell in and out of sleep. All he could think about was the words Louis said to him. He was forgiven. It was a nice feeling.

His small flicker of happiness gave him motivation enough to meet with the gang again; when he arrived, thankfully, no one seemed to care that he’d ever been gone. He didn’t want any extra attention anyway. Dorothea raised an eyebrow at his hat, which he’d started to wear practically every day, but he ignored her.

No one talked about the incident with the cat, and everything returned to normal for a while; that is, until someone in the group came to Noiz for another “favor”. This time it was Leon.

“Hey. Your parents are loaded, right?” No preamble, just straight to business. Leon had never spoken too much to Noiz; he seemed like the kind of person who didn’t care about anyone. Maybe that’s why Dorothea had said that they were so alike.

“Yeah. Why?” Noiz answered, sounding just as detached as the other. Next to him, Dorothea snorted in amusement.

“I need some cash. Fast. €400. At least.” Noiz scowled; he didn’t like being pushed around, but he didn’t see any way out of this. He wasn’t going to fight with the people who’d taken him into their crowd.

“...You expect me to do this?”

“I’ll make it worth your while. Just have it by tomorrow.”

“...Fine. Piece of cake.” When Leon smirked at his answer and walked away, Noiz sighed and leaned against the brick wall again. €400 wasn’t that much. This would be easy. It didn’t matter to him; kids had come to him asking for money before, so he’d expected this to happen eventually.

From beside him, Dorothea scoffed. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“...Do you think they’re targeting me? They’re asking me to do all this shit...” Noiz glanced at her as he asked, but she just huffed again.

“That’s nothing special; they’ve been asking me to do a bunch of stuff for them too! It’s just because we’re the youngest and they like bossing us around. No big deal. Or maybe...” She turned to him with a gleam in her eyes, lips curled. “They like bossing you around because of you little... _issue_.”

Seeing that she was glancing down at his leg, Noiz exhaled deeply in irritation and pushed himself off the wall, turning away. “It’s not a fucking _issue._ ”

“ _Sure_ it isn’t.”

Taking the money wasn’t hard; he had access to tons of it all the time. Maybe his parents just forgot to take it away from him, but it was more likely that they didn’t care. After all, Noiz never was a heavy spender, because he barely had the chance to buy anything at all. All of his meals and clothes were usually given to him, so there was no need for him to go shopping.

The next day, Noiz returned with the €400 in his pocket, and after an hour of doing who-knows-what, Leon waved him over. He looked at Noiz expectantly.

“Well?”

Noiz took out the cash and handed it over. After Leon counted it all, he looked back with a muted grin.

“Nice. Not so bad after all, kid.”

“What did you expect?” Noiz replied bluntly, and Leon’s smile faded.

“I dunno. For you to fuck up. But you didn’t.” With that, he looked over his shoulder at another boy. Their conversation was whispered, but Noiz could still hear Leon’s side.

“Get the angel dust... I don’t fuckin’ care, I said I would give him _something_.”

A bag of small, white pills was given to Leon, and he looked to Noiz again. “You were bugging us before about these, right? Well, here. You get _one_.”

“Is that fucking _PCP?”_ Just as Noiz was holding out his hand, Dorothea interrupted with a raised voice, walking towards them with a snarl. Leon raised his eyebrows.

“Duh. That’s all we have right now. Not that it’s a bad thing; less people are using it because they’re afraid.”

“You _do_ know you’re basically committing suicide by taking just _one_ of those? That shit makes you go _insane_ ; I heard that this one time, this guy _set his whole house on fire_ after taking _one_! You can have a seizure and die! Or suddenly try murdering people!” Throughout her rant, Leon didn’t look the least bit shocked or interested.

“Do I look like I care? Because I don’t.”

After a few seconds of staring at each other, Dorothea sneered. “I _know_ you don’t. I don’t either. I’m gonna have fun watching you bastards try and murder each other after taking that.”

When she showed no more signs of arguing, Leon looked to Noiz again, still holding out the pill. Noiz wasn’t taking it straight away, though; he hadn’t even known what it was, and now wondered if what Dorothea said was right.

“Was all that true?”

At his question, Leon raised an eyebrow again, but didn’t hesitate in his answer. “Yeah. This shit is intense. Not like Emile or I have died from it, though. It’s up to you if you want any or not. This is all the payment I’m giving.”

After a few seconds, Noiz exhaled quietly and took the pill from his hand. He didn’t care. If it could do crazy shit to someone, then maybe it could help him feel pain. Or anything at all.

“Chew it slowly. It’s better like that.”

At Leon’s suggestion, Noiz quirked an eyebrow, but slowly placed it in his mouth and chewed. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it tasted pretty awful. Once his mouth was again empty, he met Leon’s eyes.

“...Any minute now. Just lean against the wall or something.”

“...Fine.”

Noiz didn’t know when, but soon enough, he was experiencing things in a different way. He couldn’t move his eyes from his feet; everything he looked at was grotesque and strange. It was scary. He gritted his teeth, and heard someone say something, but their words were fuzzy, brushing against the outsides of his ears like soft felt. He already couldn’t take this.

An extreme anger overwhelmed him, and he was brought back to his primary school days, full of fights and blood and anger and _more anger_. Anger at all these kids; what did they know? They were the _real_ monsters, so how did they have any right to call _him_ one?

Soon enough he was punching someone; maybe Leon, but he wasn’t sure. It would make sense if it was Leon, because it was _his_ fault he was feeling this way. This was worse than pain, surely, because he’d already felt this feeling of anger and distraught before.

Where was the pain he wanted to feel? This wasn’t new or exhilarating; anger was just a feeling that reminded Noiz of death.

He faintly registered that he was screaming at the other boy to punch him back, and maybe Leon did, but Noiz didn’t feel anything. Like always.

When the anger finally left him, Noiz was panting and being held back by someone. Leon’s face in front of him was bloodied, and he was scowling at him coolly. Noiz’s eyes were still swimming with colors and images; he dipped his head again, closing them.

“I’m going to...” Puke, he was going to say, but the words were too sticky to get out of his mouth. Leon slapped him suddenly. He still couldn’t feel it.

“You’re _not_ going to puke now. Let him go.” At Leon’s impassive demand, Noiz was unhanded, and he stumbled, falling to the floor. His brace twisted awkwardly underneath him, and he moaned in protest at the uncomfortable position.

“See, this is nice. While you’re down there, how about you suck me off?” A few other boys laughed, and Noiz felt something tug at his hair. He looked up in a daze, grunting.

Leon regarded him emotionlessly, nudging him with his feet and grabbing his face. “See, he’ll do whatever. He doesn’t care... Someone make sure no one comes back here.”

Noiz didn’t know how, but he was brought to his knees, and his brace creaked in protest. Disregarding it, Leon ordered, “Undo my pants already. I don’t have all day.” Noiz’s hands shook; he could still barely steady himself upright, let alone understand exactly what was happening. There was blood on the ground beneath him, and he was pretty sure it came from him, but he _still_ couldn’t feel anything.

“Ugh. Hey, are you trying to do what I _think_ you’re trying to do? That’s _gross._ ” Dorothea, from somewhere behind him, spoke up in disgust.

“I’m not _doing_ _anything_ to him. He’s not fighting it, see? Besides, I could use a good blowjob. He’s got a pretty face.”

Another voice entered the conversation – Emile, maybe? “Why, would _you_ rather do it instead, girl?”

Dorothea was silent for a few seconds. Then, “ _Hell_ no. I have at least _some_ dignity left. Have your fun or whatever. But I’m making sure that _no one_ comes back here; I’m not being caught with you guys doing something _so_ embarrassing.” Her Mary Janes clacked on the stone as she walked away; it echoed through Noiz’s head, and he groaned, slouching down onto his thighs. Leon yanked on his hair again, bringing him upright.

“What did I say, bitch? Hurry it up. I don’t have all day.”

It took a few seconds for the orders to sink into his skull, but once they did, Noiz brought his hands up to the front of Leon’s jeans. Because why not? He didn’t care. It was fine. Sex was supposed to be fun, right? That’s what he’d heard, anyway.

As he fumbled with the zipper, his vision swimming, Leon and Emile’s voices soaked into his head like water.

“Do you think Aleida would get mad if I had a turn after you?”

“I dunno, man... I think he’ll pass out or something after mine, so...”

“...Heh. Whatever.”

Whenever they talked, a prickly feeling spread across his head, and he didn’t like it. Somehow, though, he managed to unceremoniously pull off Leon’s jeans and boxers.

Noiz felt sick. All his body wanted was to lie down, his leg shaking inside his brace, but his mind wanted to do this. Even though now being faced with someone else’s dick made him feel so vulnerable and nauseous.

“...You’re not hard...” He mumbled through his closed mouth, hands hovering uncertainly near Leon’s hips. It wasn’t like he’d ever done this before, so he was clueless. Leon scoffed.

“You expect me to be? _Make_ me hard. Hurry up.”

At the request, Noiz clumsily took the other’s flaccid cock in his hand. He was bigger than Noiz, but that was to be expected. Laying his other hand near Leon’s hips to support his dazed self, Noiz moved his hand up and down, automatically scraping his fingernails along the shaft. Leon hissed and grabbed Noiz’s face, stopping his movements.

“Not so rough. Are you trying to claw my fucking dick to pieces? Have some tact. Use your mouth... And _no teeth_. If I feel biting, I’ll rip your fucking eyes out.”

“Ha... Cut him some slack, Leo, he’s probably never done this before.” Noiz had forgotten that Emile was even there, and flinched at his voice.

“What, he hasn’t touched himself either? He should know how to handle a dick by now.”

Well, Noiz had _tried_ masturbating, but he didn’t think he was doing it right. Suffice to say, he couldn’t feel anything, so obviously it wouldn’t work. One time he even made his dick start to bleed; he hadn’t tried since then.

He blinked a couple dozen times to clear his muddled vision, and once he felt his brain sobering up slightly, he brought his face closer, accidentally knocking his nose against Leon’s dick. After a few sloppy licks, he tentatively put the head in his mouth and sucked.

At first, Leon hissed again and grumbled in discontent, but eventually Noiz felt him grow harder in his mouth. It felt weird – more just _full_ than anything, and it was a challenge to not instinctively place his teeth around him. Noiz tried his hardest to be gentle, still not sure what to do, and knees still shaking. Eventually, Leon let out a small sigh and put his hands on Noiz’s head – not gripping too hard, just moving him slightly. Occasionally, he would mumble out orders.

“Use your hands there.”

“Move your tongue, will you?”

“...Stop slacking. Move your head more.”

After maybe five minutes at an easy pace, Leon pulled Noiz by his hair, and Noiz let the dick slide out of his mouth with a pop. Precum was smeared on his lips, and he licked it up curiously; it just tasted weird and bitter, though. Leon, now panting softly, gripped his hair tighter to hold his head in place.

“Stay still. This isn’t going to be enough...”

Leon pulled him back more, and Noiz grunted in a daze, twisting his legs as he fell more. The position felt very strange, and he tried to complain, but Leon interrupted.

“Keep your fucking mouth open. Like that. Wider.”

As Noiz complied, Emile spoke.

“Dude. His leg.”

Noiz looked down. His braced leg was twisted awkwardly and splattered with blood in some areas; probably his blood. From earlier? Either way, Noiz didn’t really care about the blood – more about the fact that in this position, it was difficult to move even slightly.

“Let... go...” He still had trouble talking, as if his mouth was filled with clay. Leon didn’t lessen his grip.

“Shut up. Just keep your mouth open like I said.” All of a sudden, Leon was shoving his cock in and out of Noiz’s mouth at a faster pace while keeping Noiz’s head still, forcing him to take it. In surprise, Noiz let out a yelp, but it came out gurgled and muffled. Faintly, he heard Emile laughing.

“Fuck... That’s it, you little slut...” Leon let quiet praises and insults escape between his harsh breaths, and Noiz had no choice but to keep himself pliant for him. The watery sounds inevitably coming from his throat made him flush in embarrassment, though.

After minutes of getting his mouth fucked, fluids now dripping out his mouth and down his chin, Noiz felt Leon stop and press against the back of his throat, pulsating. As Noiz gagged and whined in surprise, the older boy groaned heatedly, and something spurted down Noiz’s throat. He had no choice but to swallow every drop immediately, and once Leon finally pulled Noiz’s head away, he dipped his head and coughed violently.

“Ah...” Leon sighed and leaned against the wall, pulling up his pants. “That was good. Not bad for a cripple. Maybe we can do this again later.”

Noiz wasn’t listening, though. He tried to calm his breaths and keep himself from coughing, but he couldn’t. He tried to stand, but he couldn’t even get himself on his knees. Leon sighed from above him.

“Dorothea. Your little boy-toy is having some trouble.” Then, he lowered his voice to mention to Emile, “Told you he would pass out by the end of this.”

“Tch... Shame. That looked fun.”

Leon was right; even now, Noiz felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. By the time Dorothea came running over, he was already asleep on the ground, legs still sprawled under him.

When he finally woke up again, it was the next day. As he opened his eyes slowly, he realized something was taped to his forehead, covering his eyes. He ripped if off quickly – a note from Dorothea. Evidently, she’d tried to bandage up his legs and part of his face, but gave up in the middle of it and just snuck in his room to leave him on his bed. Most of the note was her complaining about what a hassle it was; Noiz’s room wasn’t on the ground floor, after all.

He crumpled it up and flung it across the room, but it missed the trash can by a few inches. Sighing and not even bothering to sit up, he turned to bury his face in his pillow.

Although he didn’t want to think about what had happened, there was no use in trying to stop his thoughts. His head still felt weird and cloudy even now. All he remembered from the day before was Leon’s dick in his mouth, so how did his legs and face get fucked up? It was a mystery.

Hesitantly, he lifted his head to look down at his lower body, and sighed when his legs didn’t look too crooked or bloody. After a few minutes, he attempted standing, but fell back on his bed when his braced leg wouldn’t hold his weight. This was bad.

Taking it slower, he used various pieces of furniture to support himself and made his way to the bathroom, leaning against the sink as soon as he entered. Maybe it was just because his head still felt a little cloudy and fuzzy, but he was angry again – angry that he _still_ hadn’t been able to feel pain. If anything, the drug had numbed him even more.

So what did he do when he was angry? If no one else was around, he’d take it out on himself, like the child he was.

The only problem was that his parents had already confiscated anything that was dangerous or could cause him harm, so he had nothing to work with but his own hands. After searching around the bathroom and coming up with nothing, he sat on the toilet seat and yanked at his hair for a few minutes, trying to calm his breathing.

Not working. He needed to see blood. And he didn’t want to be bald by the end of this either, so he stopped.

Growling slightly to himself, he needed something to grab ahold of – _anything_ – and impulsively dug the fingernail of his left thumb under the nail of his right index finger, tearing it away from his skin with surprising force. The sight of blood pouring off his hands was exhilarating, and he pulled harder, not letting up until the nail was completely detached. The gruesome sight made him want to puke. In a good way.

Not enough – he moved to the second fingernail on his right hand.

The third.

By now, the tearing sound was starting to get to him. But he was still not feeling _anything_.

The fourth.

Blood streaming down his right arm, his breathing finally slowed, and he left his right thumb unharmed. The rest of his fingers were bloody, though, and he avoided the horrific sight as he hobbled back to his bed. A nap was really all he needed right now; not even bothering to stop the bleeding, he fell onto the covers and closed his eyes.

What a surprise – as soon as he did, his coil interrupted by beeping with an incoming message. He tried to ignore it, but about thirty seconds later, it beeped again insistently. Letting out a groan of annoyance, he grabbed it off the bedside table with his injured hand, not caring about the blood now spotting his coil.

The messages were from Clear, and Noiz felt his agony lessoning barely; at least it wasn’t anyone from the gang. He still honestly didn’t feel up to interacting with anyone, but he opened the messages anyway.

 

[ **Today** 11:23 AM]

 **fuwafuwa11:** Hey~ I’ve been trying to go to sleep earlier than usual, but I just can’t. :(

 **fuwafuwa11:** So I want to talk to you instead! Are you there?

 

This obviously wasn’t a good idea; Noiz knew that. He should just put down his coil and sleep. His mind obviously wasn’t in the right place for him to be talking to someone else. There was even something wet running down the side of his face, and he knew it wasn’t blood. His vision blurred with the tears as he shakily typed with his bloodied fingers.

 

 **bn_head:** id otn want thiis ii didnt want to

 

Fuck. He typed too quickly.

 

 **fuwafuwa11:**...What was that? Are you okay Noiz?

 **bn_head:**. not really

 **bn_head:** how did you get to leave your home

 **bn_head:** i want to leave teach me how

 **bn_head:** please

 **fuwafuwa11:** You’re scaring me. :( What happened?

 **bn_head:** can you ge tme

 **bn_head:** take me withh you or something

 **fuwafuwa11:** Are you in trouble? Where are your parents?

 **fuwafuwa11:** If you need help, you should call the police! I don’t know what I can do for you here :(

 **fuwafuwa11:**...Are you still there? Tell me what happened.

 **fuwafuwa11:** Noiz!!! PLEASE answer!!!

 **bn_head:** i

 **bn_head:** thanks for caring. bye.

 **fuwafuwa11:** What? NOIZ!!!

 

Noiz didn’t get to see what Clear said after that; he’d already thrown his coil on the ground and stomped on it, breaking it beyond repair. Everything was wrong.

And everything continued to be wrong. Ever since that day; Noiz didn’t leave his room, and since he didn’t need to be taught for the rest of the summer, he had nothing to do. His fingers stayed scarred. He never spoke with anyone, and didn’t answer the door no matter how many times Louis knocked. It was only however many weeks later – when Karsten was throwing rocks at his window – was he able to talk to someone. Not that he wanted to.

Still, Karsten would get in serious trouble if Noiz didn’t let him in, so he complied. The other boy eventually was able to crawl in through the window, complaining about the climb all the while. Noiz didn’t say anything.

Karsten faced him angrily as soon as he was finally safe in the room. “Dude, _where_ have you been? You aren’t answering anyone’s messages, and no one ever sees you around!”

Noiz didn’t speak, just glared back.

“...Ugh, whatever. Look, some _serious shit_ has happened. The group is sort of falling apart here? And Dorothea took a bunch of _pills_ trying to kill herself; well, she’s in the hospital now I think, but her parents obviously won’t let her hang out with us anymore. And _where_ have you been?”

His messy rant didn’t effect Noiz too much; he just didn’t care about that stuff anymore. The gang didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sure how to feel about Dorothea, so he just didn’t think about it. She had always been weird; he could never tell what her motives were for doing anything, so how could he try to understand what she’d done now?

“Not going to say anything?” Karsten continued badgering him, getting more annoyed by the minute. Looking Noiz up and down, he noticed his bandaged hand, and grabbed it to look closer. Noiz yanked it back, but Karsten still got a good look at it.

“What happened to _you_ now? Wait, let me see that! What happened to your fingernails?”

To appease him, Noiz muttered, “They’re gone.”

Karsten turned wide-eyed, raising his voice. “They got _ripped off?_ Dude, you know that if you don’t get stitches or something, I heard they could grow back really weird. They could even grow into your skin!”

Noiz turned his head away disinterestedly. “I don’t fucking care. How do you even know that? Just get out.”

“ _No._ You need to explain shit. What was with Dorothea telling me you took PCP? And then Leon did something to you? What’s with that? Talk.”

Baring his teeth, Noiz regarded him aggressively, “Just get the _fuck_ out of my room before I rip _your_ fingernails off.”

Flinching, Leon backed up and raised his hands in surprise. “...Okay, okay. I’ll leave. Whatever. Bye, I guess...”

Within a few minutes, he was gone, and Noiz sighed. Before he could relax again, though, someone knocked on his door. He knew immediately that it was Louis, and couldn’t _not_ let him in after ignoring him for so long. Now couldn’t have been a worse time, but now it was practically a habit for Noiz to make bad decisions.

Once Louis had shut the door behind him and faced Noiz, he asked quietly, “Uh, I heard someone shouting... Is anyone in here?”

“What are you doing in here?” Noiz, unfortunately, was still using an angry tone, and Louis flinched slightly, turning his head away. Sighing, Noiz lowered his voice.

“...No one is here. Just me. You should go.”

“...Okay. I will...” Louis walked out with his head down, and Noiz sighed. The younger had to have been standing close to the door to hear Karsten’s yelling; he’d probably been hanging around because he just wanted to see Noiz. Well, he had to learn _sometime_ that they couldn’t just see each other like that.

At least, not with Noiz like this. And not here. Noiz could barely take living here as it was, and although he would feel a bit sad for leaving his brother behind, he wasn’t going to stand it any longer. He thought he could, but now it was just too much.

Mostly because he couldn’t let his parents win. If they wanted him to _die_ in _here_ , then he would have to _live_ somewhere _else_.

The only problem was – where?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure €400 is _around_ $550?
> 
> PSA that I have absolutely no experience with drugs, so that might not have been entirely accurate. But even I know that PCP is like the worst just don't do it.
> 
> This is the last we'll see of those OC's. And any OC for a while I think.
> 
> Hope this was decent maybe?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a pretty long absence, I suppose. So sorry about that! I'll be updating less frequently now, though, mostly because there are more things that I'm busy with these days, and also because these chapters are going to only get longer. I mean, this one is yet again the longest one so far.
> 
> Again, thanks for all the kudos and stuff! And over 1000 hits! Because I seriously didn't think it would get that far. Thank you sosososo much :) Halfway there~
> 
> If it takes me a _really_ long time to update, and you want to why, I'd prefer if you [contact me by my tumblr.](http://ow-ba.tumblr.com)

“You didn’t leave your coil in your room again, did you Clear? We wouldn’t want you to be locked out again~!” The hotel receptionist smiled teasingly at him, calling out just as he was about to leave.

“Ah... Of course I didn’t leave it! ...Did I?” Clear blushes and searches his pockets; meanwhile the young woman busted into laughter.

“I was just teasing. You should really start wearing that on your wrist, silly!”

“Uh... Yeah! I will, promise! See you later, Amane-san!” Clear finally walks out of the hotel and into the streets of the small, rural town, the receptionist waving behind him.

At first, living by himself was unbearable. There were more than a few times where he’d considered going back to Sen and begging for forgiveness, but Sen would be even _more_ furious with him if he gave up like that. So he dealt with it, his first months consisting of sleepless nights, unreciprocated attempts at contacting Noiz, and being scared shitless about eating at restaurants by himself.

_What would he do when the check came? How much was he supposed to tip? How was he supposed to know where the bathroom was? It wasn’t like he could just **ask**... Could he?_

His first time booking his own hotel room was nerve-wracking enough as well. At one point, he was simply convinced he would never learn how to properly function as a confident human being in society... Well, it was impossible for him to function as a human being at _all_ , but that was beside the point.

Even now, things like grocery shopping – which he was going to do today – were pretty stressful. Everyone in this town was rather nice to him, though, and smiled at him even though he was a stranger, which helped his nerves calm immensely. He was almost thinking about settling down here; it’d been such a long time since he’d booked that hotel room. Everyone there treated him as if he was going to be living there forever, and never bothered him about when he was going to leave. It wasn’t as if they got many customers anyway; Clear _was_ far from home by now, but the area was still rural, and barely anyone came out here.

The only things stopping him from settling down here were the facts that his current job was less than desirable – retail was never his cup of tea – and he hadn’t met anyone who he would form a meaningful relationship with yet. If he _did_ settle down here, he would probably be stuck completely alone with a shitty job _forever_. He started traveling so he could – as cliché as it sounds – _find himself_ , and settling down in a place like this, while peaceful, wouldn’t help him achieve that.

As he strolled through the grocery store, his winding thoughts kept him distracted. It was true that he’d been feeling bad the past few days – ever since Noiz was acting weird and suddenly stopped answering his texts. Because being on his own, Clear had a lot of time on his hands, and it was so easy to fall into a pit of depression and anxiety without anyone there to help drag him out. Although he knew it was selfish of him, thinking of Noiz never talking to him again – thinking of him being _dead_ – made him feel terrible, because without Noiz, he had no more close friends to help him.

...Not that Noiz was ever able to talk to him that often anyway. In the past two years, the boy had grown painfully distant, and now _this_ happened. Clear didn’t want to think of it as the _end_ , but he had no idea what was going on with the other boy, so how could he know? Noiz could’ve been _dead_ by now, and he would never know... He didn’t want to think about it.

“Ah... Crap...” A few blocks down from the grocery store, Clear’s grip on one of his grocery bags slipped, and the cans of soup came tumbling out, rolling in every direction. This was quite a common occurrence, since he had to carry all of the groceries by himself, so Clear simply huffed in irritation and dropped everything to run and collect the cans. As soon as his hand was about to make contact with one, another larger hand grabbed it instead.

“Let me get that for you.” A deep, gruff voice whispered to him, and Clear froze. The hand disappeared, and with it the can, but Clear stayed staring at where it was.

“Hey.” The mystery man gripped his shoulder to bring him upright, and Clear finally looked to his face, still in shock. Before him was a tall, muscular man, covered in leather and metal. Everything about the stranger screamed danger to Clear, and although he hated the idea of judging people before getting to know them, he couldn’t help but gulp in fear.

This must be it; the moment he’d been worrying about ever since he started living alone. This man was going to steal all his things and murder him, rape him – _something_ terrible. Clear had only turned 20 just a few weeks ago; he was too young to be subjected to something like this...!

Interrupting his internal panic, the larger man suddenly grabbed him roughly by both his shoulders, his eyes lighting up with recognition. “Wait. You’re...” He started to yank Clear towards him at once, and Clear backhanded him reflexively. The man only grunted in irritation, but it was enough for him to loosen his grip so Clear could get away. He backed up a few paces, shaking.

“I-I don’t know what you want, but I don’t have anything! Just leave me alone!”

Sensing that Clear was about to run off, the other man kept his distance and shouted, “Wait! You used to live at, uh... Painted Sky Alpaca Farm, right? That was your grandpa’s farm, right?”

“You... How do you know that?” Clear stopped backing away, his eyes still wide. Was this guy some sort of _stalker_?

“That’s enough.”

Another deep voice intoned close behind him, this one making goose bumps grow on his back. He tried to turn and see who the second man was, but it was too late. Something large made impact with the back of his head, and a hand reached down the back of his shirt; Clear knew what was going to happen. Sen had done this before too. He couldn’t stop it, though, and his consciousness faded instantaneously.

 

 

“Aoba, you’re going to be late for that meeting with Mizuki.”

Ren spoke from inside Aoba’s ratty jacket, his robotic voice partially muffled. Aoba sighed and put down his chopsticks, taking Ren out and placing him on the small table in front of him. They were dining outdoors, so anyone could hear them if they talked about something controversial having to do with Ribsteez, but Aoba frankly didn’t give a shit.

“You mean my meeting with _Dry Juice_. Sure. If they want me there so much, then they should be fine with me stopping for something to eat on my way.”

“...If you say so, Aoba.”

Ren stayed quiet as Aoba finished his meal, and jumped back in his jacket before he stood up. The coil on his wrist beeped with a message, and Aoba glanced at it – just a Rhymer looking for _another_ rematch. He scoffed, not bothering to answer, and made his way to the Dry Juice hangout instead.

“Ren, what’s with you being so interested in Dry Juice, anyway? You want us to join them?” Aoba questioned nonchalantly as he crossed the road. Ren popped his head out to answer.

“Not necessarily. I was just concerned about being punctual-“

“What you should really be _concerned_ about is _Koujaku_. Why haven’t you said anything about _that_ situation, huh?” Aoba spoke huffily, with his lip curled, and Ren’s ears drooped.

“I am concerned. I just don’t believe there is much else we can do; there was no one in that shop, so we may have been wrong in believing that it was his...”

“We left a note, didn’t we?” Aoba _had_ , after breaking into the quaint shop, left a hastily scribbled note inviting Koujaku to come to their house anytime for some of Tae-san’s cooking. He remembered how much Koujaku had liked her meals, so that was the best thing he could think of, but a sick feeling grew in his stomach nonetheless.

“Well, yes... But I believe this wasn’t the best way of going about it. You broke into his shop. He may be angry about that, or may think that the note was just a prank. I think that you should go back and meet him personally, when his shop is actually open-“

Aoba stopped walking abruptly, looking ahead fiercely with a glare. “And _what?_ If what I’ve heard is true, then I’ll just get to watch a bunch of vapid girls _fawn_ over him! Look, I don’t _care_ if you think what I did was wrong! I was _asking_ about what you think of _him_ not coming to-...” His voice softened. “-Not coming to see me... I hear he’s back on the island, and I expect a visit, or _something_ \- but I get _nothing!”_

“That is why I think you should go back and try to see him again-“

“ _Ren!_ He probably fucking hates me! Why would he want to see _me_? ...Probably _knows_ that I’m just some... some drop-out. Some _whore_. Teenage dirtbag. Whatever.”

“He would not believe those awful rumors, Aoba.”

Aoba sighed, his anger cooled. “...Not _all_ are just rumors, though... He’s too good for me, probably. I don’t even want to see his selfish face, anyway.”

“...Aoba wants to see him.”

Immediately, Aoba glared down at Ren, effectively silencing him. “...Yeah? Well, _I_ don’t want to. Looks like it’s one-to-one.”

“...”

“And _you_ don’t _get_ to be our tie-breaker anymore.”

Finally entering the Dry Juice hangout, Aoba left it at that. The members greeted him with good-natured smiles, and Aoba replied with muted ones. Mizuki only smiled and waved at him before starting, which was strange; usually, they would at least talk alone a bit before the whole gang was brought into it. Aoba let it go, though.

The meeting left him yawning, though he still participated. He toyed with the idea of simply leaving right afterwards, but forgot about it when Mizuki immediately pulled him to the side. Expecting their usual friendly banter, he was surprised when Mizuki looked upset, and even a little hurt.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you _knew_ Koujaku was back?”

Frowning and crossing his arms, Aoba retorted without sympathy. “I figured you already knew too. News travels fast around here, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. How come you tried to go see him without me?”

Aoba’s eyes barely widened, but it was enough for Mizuki to notice. “...How did you know about that?”

“He showed your little _note_ to me; thought it might’ve been a fake. You broke the lock on his door, did you know?” His voice took on a patronizing tone, but Aoba wasn’t even deterred, his face filling with anger.

“ _Oh?_ So you’re talking to him? Did he come to _see_ you? I bet you guys are just _best friends_ now, right? Does he flaunt his hordes of girlfriends to you? I _bet_ he does-“ He began to raise his hands in the air, but Mizuki grabbed him gently.

“Hey, hey, calm down!” Mizuki’s disapproval turned into confusion. “What’s with all this? You hate him or something?”

“ _Hate_ him?” Aoba pulled his hands away and lowered his head, his voice suddenly lowering. “...How could I ever hate _him_?”

“...Aoba.” Mizuki sighed, putting his arm around his shoulder. Aoba pouted, but let him. “Do you really think he doesn’t want to see you or something?”

“I don’t think – I _know_.”

“What? That’s nonsense; he totally wants to see you!”

“Then _why_ hasn’t he? How come he came to see _you_ but not me? ...I mean, he did come to see you, right?”

“...Well, yeah. He came to my shop-“

“ _See?_ ”

“But Aoba, that’s not the _point_. He’s just nervous about seeing you again, that’s all! It just means he really cares about what you think of him.”

“...That’s it? He’s nervous? ... _I’m_ the one who’s nervous, that _asshole_...”

Mizuki laughed and looked closer at Aoba, who was still facing the ground. “See? It’s fine; he’ll come have dinner at your house, and everything will be alright!”

“...But he thinks I’m a _total whore_.”

After a few seconds of silence, Mizuki laughed even harder, separating from Aoba to bang his hand on the wall in mirth. Aoba faced him, blushing and angry.

“ _What?_ Stop laughing- _It’s true!”_

“W-Where did you get _that_ idea?” Still chuckling, Mizuki smiled at him. Aoba pouted.

“...Well, he’s probably heard stuff around by now, right? Probably thinks I’m easy. And some low-life – a druggie or something...”

“ _Aoba!_ He wouldn’t believe those idiotic rumors, alright? Stop worrying over nothing; just go and see him!”

“But...” Even through Mizuki’s attempts at reassuring him, Aoba still wasn’t convinced.

“But what?”

“...Is it true that he’s starting a Ribsteez team?”

“Oh, yeah. Sounds pretty awesome, huh? The guy’s got himself quite a following already!” Mizuki smiled, leaning against the wall again, but Aoba stayed low-spirited.

“...So he’s just going to hate me more, then. For Rhyming and stuff.”

Mizuki scoffed. “Look, don’t worry about any of that shit, okay? If it bothers you that much, then just stop playing Rhyme. But Koujaku likes you too much to let street gangs get in the way of it, okay? Relax.”

Aoba’s face grew pink as he finally relented. “...Okay. I-... Did he say when he was going to come over?”

“No. Just be ready whenever, I guess.” Mizuki looked at him for a moment, before smiling toothily, hugging his side again. “Aw, I feel like I’m setting you up for your first date or something! Make me proud, lover boy~!

“Ah- Quit it!” Aoba, still red, quickly separated himself from him, Mizuki laughing all the while. “It’s _not_ like that!”

“Sure, sure. I’ll see you later, alright?”

“...Okay. Bye.”

 

 

Clear’s mind woke up before his body did, so he had no choice but to lay on his back for who knows how long, waiting until his arms would push himself up properly. Groaning in confusion, he blinked slowly and inspected the room he was in – dark, with brick walls, but cozy-looking. There were blankets practically everywhere, about five of them piled onto Clear. He pulled them off and stood up.

Before he was able to analyze the situation, someone walked in – a very tall, scary-looking man, wearing black. Following him was a pink cockatoo – an AllMate, Clear guessed – which perched gracefully on the bed’s headboard. The man closed the door behind him and sat on a chair across from the bed, bringing a pipe to his mouth. Clear was much too clueless and scared to try and talk, so he simply sat back on the bed and waited until the large man finally spoke.

“...Do you know why you’re here?” The deep voice suddenly cutting into the silence startled Clear, and he flinched before shaking his head.

“You’re an android. Serial number R-2E-054, correct?”

Although Clear knew that was true, he shook his head in dismay. What was going on? “...How do you know about that?”

“I knew your grandfather. He’s dead now, isn’t he?”

There wasn’t a shred of sympathy in the other man’s words, but Clear’s nervousness still lessoned with the knowledge that this man was connected to his grandfather in some way. Still, he couldn’t imagine his grandfather telling anyone else about him being not human, but he let that slide for now.

“Yeah... He is. H-How did you know him?”

The man didn’t answer, just blew smoke slowly out of his mouth while staring at Clear. He lowered his gaze and fidgeted, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but not completely discouraged, opting to try again.

“Um... Were you... friends?”

“Friends...?” Now scowling at him in irritated confusion, the man lowered his pipe. Clear smiled anxiously. This wasn’t going so well.

“Um... What I mean to say is, are you a bad person? Because if you knew Grandpa, and you were friends or something, then you aren’t a bad person, so...” Clear, still smiling nervously, trailed off. He wasn’t doing so well with words, but hopefully the other man got the gist of it.

All the other did, though, was pause before smirking scornfully. “Huh... By your definition, then, I am a ‘good person’.” He said it in a patronizing way, and Clear knew at once he was being treated like a child, his face heating in embarrassment.

“...Good, then!” He couldn’t help if he was being childish, and maybe it _was_ idiotic to trust someone just because they knew his grandpa once upon a time, but Clear wanted to assume the best.

The man stood up, making as if he was about to leave. Clear stood up also, almost reaching out to him instinctively. “Wait...! Are you really leaving right now? I mean... Why am I here? What am I doing here...?”

“You’re staying here, and you’re doing what I say. That’s all you need to worry about.” He opened the door, and the cockatoo flew back out, the man following shortly before adding, “You may leave this room, as long as you don’t try to escape. There will be consequences if you try.”

He walked out, leaving Clear in confusion. It took only ten minutes for him to exit the room as well, but not in aim to escape – just hoping to find out exactly what was going on.

 

 

Aoba sighed for the millionth time, hugging Ren tight to his chest while standing outside his own front door. Still, after about ten minutes, he didn’t have enough courage to go inside. For all he knew, he could’ve been away from home for days to _weeks_ ; facing Granny now would be a challenge.

It was rare that things were like this. Inside his head, it was quiet for once. Ren was happy to see him finally, and had licked his cheeks vigorously. Aoba was in full control, and loved every second of it, as confused as he still was. He wasn’t as confused as he’d been some other times, though; at least now, he knew what he’d been doing for the past few months. Not that he _liked_ what he’d been doing, but at least he was aware of it now.

Eventually, he built up the courage to enter the house, taking off his shoes and slowly creeping over to the living room whilst trying to make as little noise as possible. He braced himself in anticipation, but no one was there. Frowning, he looked into the dining room, and immediately stopped short.

Granny was there, sitting at the table. Her back was to him, thankfully, but he could clearly see how it was shaking softly. She was crying. Definitely. And she’d most definitely heard him opening the door. How could she not?

Tears rose to his eyes automatically, and he raised a hand to his mouth, turning to quickly walk up the stairs. He _couldn’t_ face her – not now. Not like this. Not when he was such an absolute fuck-up.

When was the last time he’d even talked to her? Of course he wouldn’t be able to remember clearly, but it had probably been a very long time ago, and it’d probably ended very badly. His throat clenched at the thought; he was such a horrible grandson.

Shutting his door behind him, he collapsed onto the bed, bursting into tears and hugging Ren close. The bed was cold – probably hadn’t been used in a long time, which just reminded Aoba of how Granny must have felt. All alone. Her grandson not there. No family.

Ren licked his tears away until he finally quieted, only sniffling every so often. Aoba eventually laughed softly through his tears. “I’m so... so messed up. Huh, Ren?”

“...Tae-san will understand, if you explain. It isn’t your fault.” Aoba almost started laughing more at how Ren didn’t even try to deny his statement, but stopped and sighed.

“I sound crazy even to myself, though... I mean, why am I even here now? I know Koujaku should be coming over, today or maybe tomorrow, but that’s...”

“Maybe you should talk to him. Ask him.”

Aoba frowned. “You mean... the other me?”

“Yes.”

“...Just talk? I can never just talk with him. Is there even a way to do that?”

“Think hard. Ask him to talk with you.”

After a few minutes mulling it over, Aoba sighed into Ren’s fur. “Ren... Always the reconciler, huh? How are you that smart? I mean... You don’t think I’m weird? Did you just know about this because I was acting differently? Do you think Mizuki might know, then...? No, he probably just thinks it’s my attitude that’s changed... It’s been so long, after all...” Tears started rising again, but he held them off, wiping his face. Ren didn’t answer him.

It was true that Aoba knew by now about what had been going on; he’d come to the conclusion that there _had_ to be another “person” inside him. Two personalities sharing a body. In the beginning of the switch, he still had no idea, and was practically asleep or dead inside his own body for all those years... Years he missed. A good portion of his childhood where he had no idea what had happened – even now, it scared him.

But as he grew older, he started to see the things that were happening out of his control. He didn’t know exactly why; maybe his “other self” just felt like showing him all of a sudden. It was around the time when he started getting into Rhyme, so maybe that’s what he wanted him to see – people suddenly going into a rage whenever they lost to him... Or, at the worst occasion, that one person who completely lost their mind and collapsed in a seizure. Aoba didn’t understand how it was happening, but it was scary, especially when he realized it was happening _because_ of him. _He_ was the one doing it.

Whatever the reason, though, as he was allowed to at least observe, he began to gain an understanding of the fact that they’d “switched”. There were even some times – moments that lasted mere hours – where he’d suddenly be in control again for the first time in months or years, but as soon as his “other self” realized, he was immediately pulled back inside. It was frustrating; especially when, as much as Aoba wanted to talk or have more of an explanation, it was rare that the two personalities would ever trade words.

Maybe now was the time to try and talk, though, because it didn’t feel like Aoba would be out of control any time soon.

So, Aoba thought. Closing his eyes, he concentrated hard, but in his exhaustion from crying, he ended up putting himself to sleep instead. In his dream, he was still calling out for his “other self” to come and speak with him. After what felt like hours, another voice finally filled his head.

 

_“What the fuck do you want?”_

“I... I need to talk to you.”

_“Yeah, I realized that from you yelling at me a million times over.”_

“...You’re letting me have control?”

_“...What, you don’t like it?”_

“No! No, I like it! I want... control. But why now?”

_“...”_

“Is it because... Koujaku is coming?”

_“Yeah. That’s right. I don’t want to see that motherfucker. And apparently **you** do, for whatever reason, so...”_

“He’s my friend! And I haven’t seen him in so long... Of course I want to see him! Why don’t you feel the same way? You’re _me_ , aren’t you?”

_“He doesn’t like **me** , idiot. He likes **you** , not me. It doesn’t matter if **I** like him or not – that won’t change the fact that he fucking hates me.”_

“Why do you sound so sure of that...? You haven’t done anything to him, have you?”

_“No, I haven’t.”_

“Then it doesn’t make sense that he’d hate you.”

_“Look, just fucking **drop it** , or I **will** be back in control.”_

“Okay! Okay... But does that mean that after he comes, you’ll be back in control again?”

_“As long as he’s here, I’ll stay safe in here, thank you very much. But no promises. I might just feel like coming out again. And if I do, then I will.”_

“...H-... _How_ is that fair?! Tell me! You... You took away _years_ from me! You _ruined_ my life!”

_“And here’s why I **don’t** like talking to you. You always do this.”_

“Shut up! Why do you have to exist?!”

_“If I remember correctly, you were the one who **let** me take over. Do you even remember how fucked-up you felt? I was doing you a favor.”_

“No... _You_ said you would get Sei back! You... fucking _liar!_ What were you telling him before, anyway – t-to make him _leave_?! You fucking _took him away_ _from me_! _You’re_ why he left! Whatever you were _saying_ to him...!”

_“Just shut the fuck up already. So what if I lied. I don’t like being stuck in here. You have no idea what it’s like – you weren’t stuck for **nearly** as long as I’ve been. You don’t know shit about real suffering. And I’m **not** the reason why Sei left, idiot.”_

“B-But... You know where he went! You must...”

_“Well, I know that he went to where we were born. It’s not like I know the exact address of the place, jackass; he could be thousands of miles away or right next door for all I know.”_

“B-But...”

_“Just stop. I’m sick of you. You’re lucky I’m not changing my mind.”_

When Aoba awoke about an hour later, there were fresh tear stains on his face again, and Ren licked them in condolence. Aoba sighed shakily.

“Ren... How can I _win_? How can I... I fucking _hate_ him...”

“It’s okay, Aoba.”

Aoba looked into his eyes for a few seconds before laughing sardonically. “Sorry... Why am I talking to you about these weird things? You must be so confused by everything... I’m so sorry. Sorry that you don’t have a normal owner...”

“You’re perfectly fine, Aoba. I’m glad you’re here again.”

“...I’m glad I’m here too...” His eyes suddenly widened. “Shit... What time is it?”

“It is 6:43 PM.”

“ _Crap._ I really need to talk to Granny...” Aoba slowly stood, stretching and placing Ren back on the pillow.

“You will be fine, Aoba. She will understand.”

“...Thanks, Ren.”

 

 

The monotony of Noiz’s life became even more sickening once he stopped associating himself with the gang. In his mind, he screamed at himself to fight his fate – get up and _do something_ , goddammit! – but he had no energy. By the time he finally completed his AllMate – although he promised himself to continue to work on it indefinitely, since it could always use some improvements – he’d gone months and months without speaking a single word to anyone but himself.

Once his AllMate- or shall he say, _AllMates_ were completed, in all their cube-shaped and bunny-esque glory, he figured he could finally start participating in Rhyme. After all, Rhyme was his only remaining possible method of finding out what pain really feels like; just because he felt dead on the inside didn’t mean that he could give up on that completely. It was his last hope.

Rhyme was difficult at first, though, because Noiz couldn’t do much in his room all by himself; to play, he had to actually go outside and _meet people_. The thought gave him shivers of disgust, but he would do anything for just the mere possibility of feeling pain.

That’s why, the very day he was finally registered as a Rhyme player, he left his room. It was a rather nerve-wracking experience, and simply opening his door, with the knowledge of what he was about to do, made his fingers tremble. Once his door was opened, he grew even more shaken as he realized that today wasn’t an ordinary day. His parents must’ve been throwing another party, because he could hear unfamiliar voices and music playing throughout the entire house. There was no one around in his corridor, but he was sure that if he even only turned a corner, he would likely be seen by someone.

Did it really matter if he was seen by anyone, though? Why should he care about his parents’ reputation? If someone saw him and was appalled, then so be it. It was his parents’ problem, not his.

With those determined thoughts running through his mind, Noiz walked down the hall and turned the corner, glaring ahead. He would likely stand out to anyone that saw him; his shirt wasn’t buttoned properly, and he couldn’t remember the last time he showered. But whatever. All he needed to do was make it to a back exit without his parents dragging him back to his room...

It should’ve been obvious to Noiz that he would be caught, yet he was still surprised when his arm was yanked, pulling him to the side. By now he’d entered a parlor with about ten people in it, and although it wasn’t crowded, not many people seemed to spare him a second glance – other than the person who pulled him aside, of course.

Noiz hastily wrenched himself out of their grip and scowled at them – her. The woman looked to be in her early-thirties, with long pink hair and blue eyes that squinted at him suspiciously. He hadn’t seen this woman before in his life, but since she was here, she was likely one of his parents’ associates or something. Whatever she was – Noiz didn’t have time for this.

Not caring if he was making an even worse impression, he spat out at her, “Don’t touch me. I need to go.” He tried walking past without another word, but she yanked on him again, stopping him in place.

“Hm? And where are _you_ going? Sorry, but you look pretty familiar. You’re the _son_ , aren’t you?” She spoke confidently but gently, in a tone that annoyed Noiz for whatever reason. He shrugged her off and glared, confused.

“I’ve never seen you before in my life. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s not like your parents talk about you, don’t worry. There are just rumors...” The corner of her mouth quirked up, but she still spoke gently, probably in an attempt to calm him down. Noiz refused to let himself relax, though; this woman was obviously up to something for her to keep on talking to him like this. Probably wanted money or something?

“Well I don’t care.”

At his deadpan expression, she raised her eyebrows slightly and then looked him up and down, gauging his appearance. He fidgeted, knowing he looked worse for wear, and considered just throwing a punch at her and running for it.

“Where are you to, then?” She asked it innocently enough, but Noiz’s brows didn’t soften.

“Away.”

“You plan on being a runaway or something? Don’t like your folks?”

Noiz blinked in slight surprise. “...If I had a place to run _to._ Just leave me alone.”

She looked ready to say something more, but was cut off by a loud and frantic voice.

“Noiz! _What_ are you doing out here?” The clacking of heels was followed by a harsh grip on Noiz’s forearm, and he gritted his teeth in irritation. Of course, his mother had to come and catch him, her face red and teeth bared. If only this strange woman hadn’t stopped him...!

“Oh, I was just having a little chat with your son. He’s a very charming boy.”

At the cheerful statements, Noiz raised his head, eyes wide. The pink-haired woman was smiling at his mother with grace, no trace of a lie in her voice; but it _couldn’t_ actually be _true_. What was she thinking, saying something like that?

His mother seemed to be in the same state of disbelief as him, eyes widening before she said with a grating voice, “...Oh. Well, he _shouldn’t..._ be out here. This is where the _adults_ are talking. Isn’t that right, Noiz?” Her eyes barely glanced in his direction.

He didn’t answer her; he didn’t feel like saying anything, too busy thinking about what the woman had said. Even now, the odd lady was staring at Noiz’s arm with a strange look in her eye- Noiz noticed immediately. It seemed that his mother was gripping his arm far too tightly, and his skin around her fingers was discoloring. He couldn’t feel it, so of course he didn’t notice, but the woman obviously did, her lips pursing.

She glanced to the tips of his fingers as well. Could she see the scarring there? Noiz clenched his fists, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“I will be taking him to his room, if that’s quite alright.” His mother’s voice startled him out of his reverie. The other woman flashed a subdued smile at the statement.

“Of course.”

His mother’s pull on him was far too rough, and his leg twisted around a few times too much for his comfort, but he was eventually thrown into his room without a word. He heard the numerous locks on his door sounding behind him, and sighed, burying his head in his hands. Great. Fantastic.

Only when he stopped wallowing in self-pity did he notice a small, folded piece of paper in his shirt pocket. Not remembering ever putting anything in there, he unfolded it curiously and read the small, cursive print.

_“If you really need to leave for good, meet me at the corner of Bauernwood and Landwehr around 5 in the morning tomorrow. Bring any belongings that you really need to take with you, but no more than what you can fit in a backpack. If you’re feeling wary about this, feel free to ignore this note.”_

Noiz debated crumpling the note up immediately, but paused, reading over the last sentence again. He sighed, folding it up neatly again.

Wary, definitely not. Desperate, maybe.

 

 

Ren turned out to be right, as he always was. Once Aoba explained to Granny what had been going on – in as clear a way he could possibly explain it – she smiled, sad but understanding, and prescribed some pills for him, only after giving him a goose egg on top of his head first. She didn’t even need to say what the medicine for; Aoba already figured. He didn’t need to hear how crazy he was, thank you very much.

Surprisingly, there were no tears, and when Aoba mentioned that Koujaku would probably be coming over sometime, she wasn’t too shocked. All she said was that she would get busy cooking the best meal she could possibly make, not asking any questions about when Koujaku had returned. Aoba thanked her mentally; he didn’t exactly feel like telling her about how he’d broken into his shop. He knew it was wrong of him to keep it a secret, but he had bigger problems to deal with.

Koujaku was going to be here any minute; this he was sure of. Mizuki had already sent him a text to alert him right after Koujaku left to his house; it was then that Aoba realized he didn’t feel quite ready to face his old friend. Then again, he would probably never feel ready, so he just had to suck it up.

As he waited, the anxiety built up inside his stomach. Granny yelled at him at least three times to just sit down and relax, but he ignored her. Once a few knocks resounded on the front door, Aoba shuffled to it with a steeled face. Granny had said she would let them talk for a while to catch up before she jumped in, so the only thing he was concerned with was what exactly he would talk about. A simple “nice to see you” would obviously not be appropriate; after all, he broke down that door, and...

When Aoba finally answered the door, however, all of his concerns were pushed to the side for a moment. Koujaku... was tall. Well, he’d _always_ been taller than Aoba, but by now Aoba had thought that he’d grown enough to at least match him. His height wasn’t the only thing; his hair was different – longer, covering one side of his face. He had scars across his nose and, from what Aoba could see, his hands as well. It was surprising, but Aoba didn’t have much time to be awed; as soon as the door opened, Koujaku’s slightly nervous expression turned to a smile.

“A-Aoba! You’re...” Aoba didn’t know what to say as Koujaku’s eyes made his way across his body, eventually landing on his face again. It was hard to read what he was thinking, but at least he seemed happy to meet again.

“Koujaku...” Aoba’s greeting was much softer than his, and after a few shocked seconds of staring at each other, Koujaku reached out. Sighing in relief, Aoba let himself fall into the embrace; Koujaku didn’t hate him. In fact, he seemed happy to see him. That was a good sign.

“I’m so glad you’re back... I missed you!” When they separated, Aoba finally smiled, trying to keep his voice joyful. Honestly, he felt like tearing up a little; as soon as he got to control his life again, all this stuff was happening...

“I missed you too! I missed everything about this place...” Koujaku’s eyes grew a wistful look, but soon he smiled again. “And you’ll have to tell me some of what I missed! I mean, I missed getting to watch you grow up!” He laughed, and gestured as if he was about to ruffle Aoba’s hair, to which the younger flinched away at. Stopping himself from the habit, Koujaku chuckled nervously.

“Ah... Sorry, my bad.”

“It’s okay...”

They made some more inconsequential small talk – including Aoba introducing Koujaku to Ren, which was an admittedly hilarious conversation – before being interrupted by Granny, who gave Koujaku a strong hug and urged them both to sit and eat. Throughout the dinner, Koujaku asked many questions about how life was on the island, and Granny did most of the talking – explaining new businesses that had opened up, new neighbors, etcetera. Surprisingly to Aoba, not much was said about their lives specifically – nothing about where Sei was, nothing about what Aoba’s life had _actually_ been like in the past five years, nothing about school or friends... Aoba was confused as to why Koujaku wasn’t asking these questions, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d been dreading talking about all that stuff, so to never hear it come up in the conversation was nice...

But it was _too_ nice. It felt strange.

What was especially strange was how vaguely Koujaku spoke whenever Granny or Aoba asked _him_ about his life on the mainland; he mentioned some things about the friends he made and the school he went to, but then changed the subject to his new Ribsteez team. He didn’t seem comfortable talking about his family especially. Granny luckily picked up on this quickly, and didn’t pester him about it, no matter how much she wanted to know where his mother was. The two had been very close, obviously with how Granny entrusted the woman to care for her grandsons, but they hadn’t made contact with each other for many years now. Aoba knew Granny must be curious and slightly worried, but was glad she had the tact to not ask.

Just like how, no matter how much Aoba was curious about it, he didn’t bother asking about Koujaku’s new hairstyle or all of his scars. It didn’t feel right to ask, especially when Koujaku wasn’t even asking him about the door he kicked down. When the older mentioned his new job as a freelance hairdresser, Aoba completely expected for him to bring it up, but he never did. At least, not during dinner.

Once everyone ate seconds, Granny left the table to clean up, urging them to leave her and catch up more. Aoba shrugged and decided to give Koujaku a proper tour of the house, eventually having them end up at the balcony of his room. Koujaku sighed and leaned against the railing, regarding the evening sky with a fond eye before reaching into his kimono. Watching curiously, Aoba’s eyes widened in surprise once he finally took in what was happening; Koujaku was smoking.

Instinctually, he almost asked for one himself, but caught his breath. No – that wouldn’t be _him_ talking, would it? He wasn’t sure exactly how much time his other self had spent doing drugs, but he wasn’t planning on letting that continue. Seeming to notice his internal struggle, Koujaku turned his head to him with a slightly raised brow.

“Everything okay?” His deep, clearly concerned voice startled Aoba, who blinked in a start before answering.

“Ah... Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking too much...”

“Ah. About?” His casual tone, for some reason, made Aoba become a bit flustered. The younger fidgeted; Koujaku honestly looked _cool_ , nonchalantly holding that cigarette in his hand. It was pretty strange to see his childhood friend looking so... intimidating? Or at least, something close to that...

“Um, nothing much... When did you start smoking?”

“Around when I was 19, I think. Sorry if it bothers you; I don’t do it that often! Haven’t smoked in a long time, actually...” When Koujaku’s voice grew worried, Aoba vehemently shook his head.

“No, no, it doesn’t bother me at all! You can smoke out here if you want...”

“Sweet.”

After a few more seconds of uncomfortable silence, Aoba tried again. “So... Where’s Beni? I’ve been looking forward to seeing him too! And it would be nice for Ren to meet him, huh?”

“Oh, yeah! Next time, why don’t you come around to the shop? We can introduce them.”

“Yeah. I’d like that...”

Silence again. Koujaku wasn’t looking at him, for some reason, and he couldn’t help but shiver. This was getting him nowhere... Aoba stood up straighter. Fine. Time to get serious... It wasn’t like he could put off talking about the serious stuff forever. He inhaled deeply.

“...Koujaku?”

Smoke slowly trailing out of his parted lips, Koujaku replied while still looking forward, “Yeah?”

“...Um... Did Mizuki... tell you anything?”

Koujaku closed his mouth in thought, standing up straighter as well and finally looking towards Aoba. “...Hm? What do you mean?”

“Anything... About me. Or... Sei.”

There it was – Koujaku’s eyes darkened. “...He told me what happened to Sei. Or the gist of it, I think... I’m very sorry, Aoba.”

“You don’t have to be...”

“I wish I could’ve been there, though.” Koujaku’s sigh of despair tugged at Aoba until the younger reached out, holding onto the sleeve of the other’s kimono as if trying to offer some sort of condolence.

“Don’t worry about it...”

Koujaku seemed to stare at him for a minute too long, before carefully saying, “Do you... want to talk about it?”

“...I’d rather not right now. Thanks for asking, though. I mean... I was more worried about... if Mizuki said anything about _me_?”

“...Huh? What would he say about you?” At Koujaku’s honestly confused tone, Aoba’s eyes widened.

“Oh, um... Just... Rumors going around, you know... I’ve sort of- ...gotten myself in bad situations...” Aoba stumbled over his words nervously, stopping when Koujaku suddenly gripped his wrist in worry.

“Is something wrong? What kind of trouble are we talking here?”

“N-Nothing- not right now, I mean! Just... I...” Aoba took a deep breath; might as well put mostly everything out there right then and now. “I... didn’t complete high school. I did drugs and got in fights. I made Granny... ashamed of me. Koujaku... I’m a terrible person. And I’m sure you know...” Although he immediately regretted it, Aoba laughed sadly. “...I broke down the door of your shop and all. Sorry...”

Koujaku’s blank expression scared Aoba for a few seconds, but luckily, the older man’s eyes soon softened. “Aoba... It’s alright. You’re here now, aren’t you? Tae-san didn’t look ashamed or mad at you at all. You _aren’t_ a terrible person. Never say that again, okay?”

He... wasn’t mad?

“B-But I-“ Aoba tried to continue, but Koujaku shushed him.

“Doors can be replaced, Aoba.”

Not sure if there was some sort of hidden meaning behind the statement or not, Aoba nevertheless sighed in relief. “Then... You forgive me?”

“Of course I do.”

“...Thanks.”

Aoba considered telling Koujaku about Rhyme – about his “other self” as well – but didn’t let himself get carried away. Firstly, Koujaku was a Ribster now; he didn’t _need_ to know, right? It would only further strain their relationship if he knew... Secondly, his other self probably didn’t want Koujaku knowing about him anyway. That kind of thing was way too embarrassing to talk about. Koujaku would think he was crazy.

Well, maybe he _was_... But his childhood best friend didn’t need to know that.

Fortunately, the rest of their evening didn’t go by too badly. Aoba did eventually ask about Koujaku’s scars, but the older simply chuckled and explained that he’d also gotten in his fair share of fights during the time he was gone. After all, he couldn’t be a very good Rib leader if he couldn’t fight, right? Aoba accepted his explanation with a grain of salt. That many scars... It couldn’t have been _just_ plain old fighting, could it have? Still, he didn’t push his chances, and they managed to end the night on a happy note, trading numbers and promising to hang out again during the week.

Once the night was finally over, Aoba was left sighing again. Koujaku was so... different. Not that it was _bad_ different, just... It gave him a strange feeling. Not to mention, he still wanted to know exactly what happened while Koujaku was gone; why he never even visited like he’d said he would.

He would let it go, though. There was always tomorrow...

 

 

Noiz watched the clouds of breath puff out of his mouth and into the cold air as he waited. Few people walked by at this time of day, but the ones who did all stared at him curiously. A young boy with a backpack, leg brace, and no jacket, this early in the morning – in the middle of _November_ – just sitting on a bench? Most of them probably thought he was homeless, but whatever.

After who knows how long, Noiz finally spotted her. She stared at him incredulously before quickly running over, the bag over her shoulder bouncing against her waist. So, she was actually surprised to see him...?

Noiz stood up, staring at the woman emotionlessly. “You’re late. I thought you said five in the morning exactly.”

Her mouth gaped; she obviously didn’t know what to say, and Noiz almost smirked. But then she started laughing to herself. The sound was melodic.

“Oh... You’re something, aren’t you? Sorry, I have an _atrocious_ sense of time.” She apologized through her laughter, finally looking him up and down. “...No jacket?”

“None of mine are comfortable enough.” It was true; by now, they were all too tight or too expensive-looking for him to take with him, unless he wanted to get jumped or something. “I have a hat, don’t I?”

“Yes, but that isn’t enough...” The pink-haired woman sighed in exasperation, suddenly grasping his hand to tug him with her. “Oh well... We have a lot of work to do, obviously.”

Immediately, he roughly pulled himself out of her grip, glaring while she turned around in confusion. “Don’t touch me. Where are we going?” As soon as he noticed the look of pity in her eyes, he glared harder, but still let her speak.

“You wanted to come with me, didn’t you? I travel a lot, you see. We’ll be going lots of different places. I’m looking for something. And it looks like you’re looking for something, too... You were willing to come here, after all. So, do you want to come or not?” When Noiz still stayed silent and still glaring after her explanation, she sighed softly again. “I’m capable of taking care of you, you know. I know how to look after children.”

Her words only made his glare intensify, and he answered gratingly, “I don’t need taking care of, and I’m not a child. I just... I’ll go, alright? I want to go with you. I don’t really care where, I guess.”

Despite his new aggressiveness, she still looked unsure. “...Are you positive? What about your parents? No ‘goodbye’ to them?”

“No. They’ll be glad I left.”

“Any siblings that will miss you? Any friends? Do you really want to leave them behind?”

“The only things I don’t want to leave behind are the things I’m taking with me in this backpack. Everything else can go to hell.”

After a few more seconds, she finally smiled in acceptance. “I understand. Come along, then. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. Just make sure not to get lost.”

“It’s not _that_ crowded here...” Noiz mumbled in annoyance, but nevertheless stayed close behind her as she walked. Soon, though, she turned her head to look at him again, still wearing a smile.

“Oh, almost forgot! What’s your name?”

“Noiz.”

“Nice to have you with me, Noiz. You can call me Haruka.”

“Whatever.”


End file.
